Monday, June 30, 2008

Dimitri The Lover: I'd Like To Do Things To You That Olga's Probably Never Even HEARD of



Dear Dimitri, *

I know you've probably been getting a lot of slack over the past couple of days over these silly voicemails, but I really hope you've managed to keep your chin up through all this nonsense. I've been reading up a bit on you, and like wow...I didn't even know you were a doctor, Mr. fancypants....with your own website, and dating group, and movie, and everything!

So, uhm, anyway, I'm not usually so forward, but after finally tracking down your phone number, I actually left you a voicemail message on Friday...well, two to be precise.

Just in case you missed it, here it is again (click on the blue arrow)
boomp3.com

Now, I didn't hear back from you and as I said on my last message, that really was supposed to be the end of it.

BUT, I've had a couple of days to think everything over and...I don't know...its just been kinda tough to get you out my head. So, if you are still open to it, I'm willing to give you one more shot. I'm feeling generous, so what the hell.

This post is going up at 12:01AM on Monday, June 30, 2008. Assuming that you might be sleeping already...or working on your script, I'm going to give you until 9AM on Monday morning to return my call. If, however, you cannot get back to me by then, Dimitri, then this is really it. We're dunzo...like 4 eva.

So, if you think you have the courage to stand up and take a real shot at true love for us both, then give me a call back. Otherwise, don't you ever, ever, even dare to ever, think of getting in touch with me again. E-V-E-R.

waiting,
me

Miley & Mandy: FUBAR Dance Off Alert



Dear Miley (& Mandy), ***

A live face off!?

Holy. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I'm like pissing in my pants right now for you guys...R U OK!?

You're ok. Of course you're ok. You guys are totally gonna be fine. I mean, you def stepped it up a notch in the last installment with the chopper-n-all, so you can do it. You guys are just gonna have to start rehearsing and gettin your shit together pronto. But like, I mean right fucking now, Miley. This is getting serious for really reals.

I mean, it's one thing when you've got a crew of 'dance off' lackeys to fetch you Frapuccinos and helicopter jet fuel, but if you guys are goin up against ACDC in person, that's a whole diffrn't ballgame. This shit is gonna make your Vanity Fair slutty pic fallout look like a Baby Einstein DVD.

So, here's my advice: Whatever sort of album or tour or Hannah Montana bullshit you might be working on right now needs to stop. You two need to get your asses into the gym pronto, stop eating immediately, and get every fucking ep of America's Best Dance Crew (seasons 1 AND 2) you can get your little hands on. Then you can get that shit goin on a constant DVD loop. For motivational purposes, hire Angry Black and Eric the Midget from Stern's whack pack to follow you two honeys around and trash talk ACDC as much as possible. Also, stop with the fucking sexy myspace pics, forget about Camp Rock and just freakin FOCUS.

I'm not gonna lie, even if you follow all of my sage advice, this is likely still gonna be an epic disaster for you two. But, "I still believe in a place called Hope," so like who knows...maybe John Chu will break his elbow or pull his groin or some shit?

Hoping for a Miracle,
me

Friday, June 27, 2008

SYTYCD Week 3 Eliminations: Chelsea & Chris Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200 Benjis


Dear Everyone, ***

First off if any of you l00zers are sick enough to be engaging in some sort of high-level Vegas type betting for this show, I would H-I-G-H-L-Y suggest you stick your asses around here. Notice who was right the fuck on with her week one elimination predictions!? ME, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Ok, so now Nigel is wearing leather too?!

Also, this dance crew, Qwest, rawked my freakin' face off, you?



So Chris: You're so adorable I might actually submit your pic to that site Cute Overload :) You're flushed cheeks just slay me. On a dance competition on Bravo or somethin', you'd probably totally kill, but this is the pro leagues homes, and you're just not there yet. On a sidenote, you didn't leap enough for me, dude--it started looking like you were afraid to to let your feet not be touchin' the floor. Catch some air! I will always remember your ass as the nilla who Krumped like a champ and got Nigel to masturbate on stage, and that's pretty major.

Chelsea: You were a great dancer and seemed to have lovely technique, but if we're bein really real with each other, it certainly didn't help matters that you were a cute, sassy Black girl with short hair. I'm sure you know that a cute, sassy Black girl with short hair won last year so, yeah...there was that.

On the plus side, you'll both have way more time now to ponder the fact that Jordin Sparks wrote your annoying summer anthem:

"One step at a time, there's no need to rush.
It's like learning to fly, or falling in love.
It's gonna happen when
it's supposed to happen. When we find the reasons why"

Play.
Repeat.


One step at a time,
me

Thursday, June 26, 2008

WTFAYTA (whatthefuckRUtalkingabout) Will.I.Am



Dear Everyone, ***

Did you guys ever do that thing in English class where you had to read through poems line by line and then analyze the shit out of them by deconstructing the whole thing? We did. And it was like my favorite fucking thing to do back when I frosted my hair and wore E.G. Smith socks.

My trip down memory lame got me thinking...maybe that would be kinda fun to do that again...like with rap lyrics!

So here's how this shit is gonna work: each week I'm going to take a popular R&B/rap song and carefully deconstruct the lyrics line by line so that you bitches can get down and dirty with me. We're gonna dig deep in an attempt to start peeling away the layers of these songs that have been soundtrackin' our lives (or at least my life, cause I listen to all this shit). Warning: This is gonna be some pretty high level shit, so feel free to raise your hand and ask any questions you need to in the comments. We're all here to learn.

And so we begin our first weekly installment of WTFAYTA (what the fuck are you talking about). Listen to the song and then join me on my journey of urban parse.

WTFAYTA, Will.I.Am?

One More Chance
Take me back
Take me back
Take me back
I…..
Soo...this dude probably fucked up big time...and now wants to "Back to the Future" himself to a time where, for like 5 whole minutes, he wasn't a complete douche.

Girls girls girls

Girls girls girls
Girls girls girls
I'm guessing each mention of "girls" probably represents like 10-20 hos that he nailed while his baby mama was home watchin' General Hospitals and wiping their kids asses...so like a benji's worth of bitches, give or take a hundo.

Take me back
One more chance
This time around I'll get it fine I know
One more chance
Let me undo what I done before
One more...
This is pretty much code for: that thing with the fifteen-year-old little hot mammy from up the street meant nothing to me. And like how the eff am I supposed to know she wasn't on the pill!? Or that those kids she was "baby sittin" were actually hers. She was wearing strawberry lip gloss...how my suppos'd to resist that sort of shit?

Girl I be loving you like la la la

this is like a real, low down, deep-n-dirty kinda lovin'...like the kind that that fifteen-year-old Puerto Rican mammy with the belly ring got.

But it be hitting you like blah blah blah

that's like gettin punched in the face by someone's la la la

We be going back and forth like volley ball

Battling each other like Galactica
Eventhough you cheat on your woman and fuck bitches all day long, you're complicated enough to still appreciate Battlestar Gallactica and team sports. This is very compelling.

Girl our love could be spectacular

But we crash like vehicular
Here's a typical quote that I would imagine best illustrates the direness of your current situation: "why you gotta be naggin me-n-shit all the time? I'll take out the garbage after I finish jerkin' off, yo."

Homicide I know why you sick of a brother with tricks that's quick to trick on ya

I could have you killed. I know people.

I know you want more than a dick in ya

Yeah, prolly.

You want a good nigga to stick with ya

Duh.

I'll stick with ya and perfect my love

I'll protect ya girl if you give me just
One more chance
Ok, the stressing of the phrase "one more chance" here gives rise to the idea that you've already gotten like fifty-three fuckin chances. And now we're all just spose to sit back and believe that this time, shit's gonna be diffrn't. Right.

This time around I'll get it fine I know

One more chance
See, now this is a bit more realistic for me. You'll get it "fine." So, like, you'll just barely get it right...like, you'll miss your kid's 2nd birthday party, but you'll send a check (that later bounces) and a include a gift certificate to Dunkin Donuts.

Cause I don't want to go

Another day, another lonely night
I don't wanna be
In this world without you in my life
One more chance
You're gonna be totally effed if you can't make it work with your woman. And there's like probably no way in hell you're gonna make that happen...but you think you will. You could totally do it (you tell yourself)...you just need o-n-e more chance.

This time around

Baby protect the love
Cause, like its your fault that the love wasn't protected, baby...not all those hos I done did.

Lalala this time around

Baby protect the love
Lalala
Baby protect the love
Lalala this time around
Better get it right
This time around
Better get it right
MUST TRY HARDER TO KEEP OWN DICK IN PANTS. MUST TRY HARDER TO KEEP OWN DICK IN PANTS.

Lemme lemme lemme lemme love you all day

Cause, like despite all my flaws, you have to at least admit that I can seriously kick it in the bedroom...

Remix our love in a new way

Put it on put it on replay replay
Spin it round an' round like a dj
Again, I'm a rockstar in the bedroom, right? RIGHT?

Forever and ever and always

Our endeavor got me sure like Al. B
Yesterday gotcha feeling a little salty
Salty, like the bitch is finally standin' up for her self and saying "hell to the no"? That kind of "salty?"

Girl I promise you imma love you love you all the way

To the end
L O V I N
Girl I'm serious, no more pretending

I received all the love your sending
I'll give my all if you give me just...
So, like five hours into my last hooker/drugz/gambling binge after that show in Vegas last month, I took a look around that shitty hotel room and it dawned on me that I have everything I need at home with you. So I wrote this stupid song in a last ditch attempt to save our fucked up relationship, and like...I'm for real this time. I'm really, really, gonna try to not be an asshat for really, really, reals.

One more chance

This time around it's time for a different flow
A new romance
Do the things we've never done before
For two or three weeks I'm gonna be like THE model baby daddy and take you out on dates and buy you flowers at the deli-n-shit. One day I'm even gonna clean up the apartment and do laundry, which like, I've never done before.

Cause I don't wanna do

The same mistakes that I made yesterday
I love you
I really love you baby I really love you baby
You're my boo. I wish I didn't fuck shit up all the time.

Lalala

Baby protect the love
Lalala this time around
Baby protect the love
Lalala
Baby protect the love
Laa this time around
This time around better get it right
This time around better get it right
If you're stupid enough to actually give me one more chance, this is like the last freakin' time. I ain't playin no more.

This time around, this time around, this time around, this time around

I promise baby imma change it
I'll remix it no more same shit
This time around, this time around, this time around, this time around
I promise baby I'll rearrange it I'll remix it no more same shit
This time around this time around this time around
Check it out now check it out now check it out now
Eh eh
So, like again, we're talking Barack Obama change--change we can believe in sorta shit.

Fuck your friends girl

They just haters they just think that I'm a playa
Ok, nowwwww we're gettin' to the meat of the motherfucker. Your baby mama's bitches are all gathered round telling her what a stupid, lame ass l00zer she is for sticking with your ass as long as she already has. Bitches be crazy-n-shit, but they look out for their fellow bizatches. You need to get all them outta the picture pronto.

But you don't see that love is greater

If not now then maybe later
Like, even if you don't take me back now, maybe you'd consider like revisiting the issue in a month or two?

Cause endlessly enormously
You will see my l o v will be strong until the end
Baby give me one more chance
Christ, I'm pullin out all the motherfuckin stops here. Are you feelin' me? Like at ALL?

This time around I'll get it fine I know
One more chance
Let me undo what I've done before
Cause I don't want to go
Another day, another lonely night
I don't wanna be
In this world without you in my life
One more chance
Your body isn't quite as slammin as some of my other honeys, but if I'm bein' realistic about shit, you're like prolly the best one for me because of the baby...and the fact that you haven't killed me yet in my sleep. So, like, can we try this thing one more time?

Lallalallalala
Lalalalalala
Lalalalala
Lalalalalala
Lalalalalalala
If you give my ass one more chance like I'm askin you to, I'll show you some of that secret special sauce, deep-n-dirty kinda lovin'...like the kind I showed that fifteen-year-old Puerto Rican mammy. Also this is a great example of an assonance, or the repetition of a vowel sound.

Whew, ok. Maybe next week we'll get into some scansion-n-shit. What song should we parse next?

Rock out with your cock out,
me

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

SYTYCD Week 3: Cat-a-Clysmically Cat-Tastic


Dear Everyone, ***

Oh Christ.

Tonight marked the return of Adam Shankman--the one judge I actually find to be more annoying than Mia Michaels. Ok, he does give some genuinely helpful crit on occasion, but also he's like totally in love with the sound of his own voice and it bugs. After kissing up to Cat in all her lacy, just been fucked hair hotness...and kissing Mary's fire whistle screaming lips, I'm ready to take one for the team and french kiss Shaq's ass again if it would mean saying goodbye to this mofo forever.

Also WTF with the opening number? I know you SYTYCD staffers probably have a busy week and all, but can't your asses find some sorta gangsta somewhere to come in and choreograph some shit up!?

Finally, can you p-l-e-a-s-e make sure that whichever bitches you pick out of the studio audience to be BFF with Cat during the opener--you know, standing up there on that crow's nest thing that I keep expecting her to trapeze off of down onto the stage--do not have their friggin' bra straps showing through their tank-a-tinis like some skeezy ass ho?

Thnx.

Now for the motherfucking dancing:

Twitchington
Choregorapher: Tabitha & Napoleon

Hip Hop

Ok, true confessions: I loved watching this sugar sweet sunshine, blondie, white ass Kherrington chick busting her ass ALL over that stage trying to be as ghetto fab, booty-licious as her Aryan self could be. Though, I gotta say, those orange jumpsuits were a bit distracting for me...it almost made them look 3D. BUT, those bitches hit it and they hit it h-a-r-d with this joint. Proof was in the pudding when Mary let loose with one of her rape screams and Nigel faked us all out so good. I bet you a benji you were sitting on the edge of your couch with your mouth all open and your titties knockin thinking "WTF motherfucker!?" till he finished saying his piece and you realized your ass had been played by Nigel like a harmonica.

Courtney & Gev
Choreographer: Tony Meredith & his sassy, fat, red-headed assistant

Rhumba

Slightly Circus of the Stars lookin' opening bit, but holy shit did Courtney look hot in that sparkly blue panty cloth. With the "grab her butt" pre-show antics (I think that must have been said a minimum of eleven times), we knew that this number was destined to be hotsy totsie, but mama mia: that shit was like choreographed fucking right there on the stage on network TV. I loved the crap out of this one, and thank Christ the judges did too. [Can someone please get Adam Shankman on a timer...and tell him to shut his hole after like the first 30 seconds?]

Chris & Comfort
Choreographer: Tyce Diorio
African Jazz

This number was brought to us by Bed, Bath & Beyond. Shit Chris, I have a feeling that this might be goodbye for realz this week. First of all, you guys have zero chemistry, like none. I wouldn't be surprised if Courtney got pregnant during her dance with Gev, wheras you two were like a gay guy and a lez tryin' to go hetero with each other. Again, Chris, you're cute as a button, but I wish "kick ass dancer" was the first thing that came to my mind about you rather than "cute." This was really just ok for me, dawg.

Will & Jessica
Choreographer: Doriana Sanchez

Disco

I love the night life, y'all. Ok, here's the straight dope: Jess, you are a sweet gurl, fer sure, but you need to get your ass back to whatever pro NBA or NFL dance troop you came here from. The judges and I totally parted ways here--I thought this number was ridiculously mediocre. I wasn't even that blown away by Will, and you freaks know that I normally love me some hardcore Will. Though I was totally swooning during the promo piece when Jessica was talking about how much of a true gentleman Will is [insert cougar purr here]. But I wasn't feelin' this joint...like at all.

Kourtni & Matt
Choreographer: Sonya Tayeh

Contemporary
Holy, ninja Mohawk! I felt sorry for the homie that had to sit behind that bitch at the show. Ok, I start getting bored with these fuckers as soon as I stroke out their names on my keyboard. First off, those costumes were horrendous. I have no idea what those outfits were supposed to be saying, but to me they said: "I got dressed in the dark...and I'm retarded...and homeless." I know that's not supposed to be their fault, but shit...those costumes were so bad that there is no way in Christ I would ever let my ass be sent out on stage lookin' like that. Again, I part ways with the judges here because I thought that this one was seriously nothing special either. And I have a feeling that the judges were just all too busy kissing the new she-ninja choreographer's ass to notice that this dance was just blah, blah, meh.

Chelsea & Thayne
Choreographer: Heather Smith

Quick Step

S-N-O-O-Z-E.

Let's recap: first week = hot tamale train; second week = caboose; third week = men's room urinal at Penn Station during a heat wave while the air is on the fritz. You two are the second most boring-est peeps on the show (after KourMa).

Chelsie & Mark
Choreographer: Napoleon & Tabitha

Hip Hop

"Please don't go to work, daddy...mommy is so l-o-n-e-l-y." Favorite fucking number of the night alert. These two still rock my world and haven't had a single misstep yet. Adam Shankman loves these fuckers too...which almost makes me feel like I should hate them, but that's insanity. Like crazy with a "K." I'm still missing Wade, but Tabitha and Napoleon are definitely holdin' their own too--gotta give props where props r due.

Katee & Joshua
Choreographer: Tony Meredith and you know who
Samba
*Hot Tamale Train (first class cabin lodging)
These two were on fire...a-g-a-i-n. They are another example of a totally bizarro pairing (a la Chelsie & Mark), but they just freakin' work in every single way. As much as I wanted to punch Katee full on in the face during auditions, she continues to win me over. And Josh is just so damn cute, with those sweet ass braces and those little dimples...he was like a super cool, non-scientologist John Travolta out there. I predict JoshEE will be totally safe this week.

K, so if I had to lay it on the line, I'd say my bottom three with a bullet are:
*Kourtni & Matt

*Comfort & Chris

*Chelsea & Thayne


And goin home?: Chris & Chelsea

I just finished making my calls and voting for everyone else. Rock the votes bitches...voting ain't just for fuckers named Obama-n-shit.

Shank Man no more,
me

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Kobe Bryant, Stay Away From Shaq's Ass, Cos I've Tasted It And It Don't Taste V. Good


Dear Kobe,

So, this Shaq stuff is some pretty fucked up shit, huh?

I got a few longterm ongoing beefs goin with some bitches, so I know all about what its like to go head to head with sworn enemies. But, I'd still be willing to bet my left tit that you have no friggin' clue what sort of foul, rancid amoeba stank like shit Shaq's ass actually tastes like.

Shaq is lame...and fat...AND he doesn't even speak Italian. Che Cosa Stupida, non?

Anyway, I thought it might be fun to help you write your own freestyle rap. You know, to get Shaq back for his totally off the cuff, not planned at all, completely spontaneous bitch slap. You could then "accidentally" drop your rhymes right on his fat face while you (inadvertently) get videotaped by TMZ in a darkened, E. Village Karaoke lounge/massage parlor.

Now, I'm as white as a bitch can get, but wtf...how bout something like this:

Check it, chek it, CHECK it
I DO know how you be
Your head is like a planet
3 x the size o' me
BITCH ASS HO ho,
BIGGIE TOLE
ME
SO so
You givin' millies a go go
while your ex wife calls the po po
Tell me how my pits rock
lick my fuckin' p.i.t.s doq
lick my fuckin' p.i.t.s doq
What, u think ur ass is funny?
that's like a white boy kickin' it with all your hun-ies
and all your monies
(and all ur monies)
that's like a ho bag rockin it, with all your tummies
your flabby ass tummiesor ur fat camp ton-ies
everybody is everybuddy
lick my fuckin p.i.t.s, doq
lick my fuckin' p.i.t.s, doq
word.

For a rough transcript of Shaq's bullshit, for comparison, check this.

Bring on the Beef!

me

My Sick And Twisted So You Think You Can Dance Fantasies


Dear Everyone, ***

Is it Wednesday yet??

Sooo....its probably not going to come as any great shock if I reveal to all y'all that I'm pretty fucking weird. This weirdness results in me spending an inordinate amount of time mulling over all sorts of effed up shit like this, for example: if the choreographed SYTYCD dances were people, which ones would you want in your life and why? Like, I mean, look at the dance itself, not the dancers, and imagine that each one was an actual living, breathing person.

T-o-t-a-l-l-y weird, right? But also kinda fun. Ok, here I go:

Choreographer: Dimitry Chaplin
Dance: Samba
This is the dude I'd want to go home with after meeting up in a sweaty bar, lying about my name, and accidentally taking a hit of x. He'd be Italian, of course, illegal probably, and would whisper "bella" and "cara" to me liberally throughout the night. He'd never call me again, even though I'd see him out with his friends sometimes, and I wouldn't even really care, because that one night we were 'mettere insiemi' would have been totally worth it.



Choregrapher: Mia Michaels
Dance: Contemporary
This is that weird, edgy guy in college who would love that I wear glasses and think that I'm brilliant even though I watch Melrose Place and Real World. He'd probably be gay, but I'd fall a little bit in love with him anyway and we'd kiss one night and it would be really bad. We'd reconnect years later on Facebook...and play Scrabulous.



Choreographer: Wade Robson
Dance: Jazz
This would be my token "weird" friend who has nipple rings and claims to actually enjoy listening to Marilyn Manson albums. He'd love to wear guyliner, but then deny that he's wearing it when you call him out on it. Also, he'd sell me weed.



Choregorapher: Mia Michaels
Dance: Contemporary
This would be that first really hot, interesting, seemingly perfect dude that I would meet after moving, or quitting my job or taking on some other big life altering decision. And this meeting and subsequent one or two or three perfect dates with said dude would be the "sign" that I did the right thing and that my life was amazing and moving in exciting directions. Then he would just stop calling me for no reason and I would cry for two weeks thinking it was because I wasn't smart enough/pretty enough/promiscuous enough/hot stripper looking enough until I realized, after reading some self-help book du jour, that he was an asshole in the first place and that the only one who is ever going to be totally committed to ensuring my daily happiness in this world is me.



Choreographer: Mandy Moore
Dance: Jazz
This would be my BFF who I've known since elementary school. She never dumped my ass, even when I was going through that really awkward stage from 9-13. We would tell lots of silly inside jokes that no one else ever laughed at and even though we would have changed a lot through the years, we would still keep in touch and be bridesmaids in each other's weddings and pretend to like each other's husbands when we really didn't...at all.




Choreographer: Shane Sparks
Dance: Hip Hop
This guy would like t-o-t-a-l-l-y be my husband. He'd be adorable, and cute (but also hot) and he'd know that he's got it goin' on, but also kind have no clue why. He would throw his back out if he ever tried picking me up like that, but he would probably try anyway, and I would love him for it despite the fact that it would end up costing us thousands of dollars in chiropractic bills. He would bring home Pinkberry for me all the time without even asking me if I wanted it, and would walk the dog at night because he was worried about my safety, even though we'd live in a ridiculously safe neighborhood. Basically, he would rock my world...like any good gangsta should.



Yikes, there I go getting all promiscuous and shit online again. I'm sorry about the overshare, but need I remind you chumps that "I am way too emotionally invested in STYCD?"

Probably not.

Twitch, I'm still ur bitch,
me

Monday, June 23, 2008

Fine. I Admit It. David Beckham Gets Me Hard Too

Dear Becks, **

As the NYT reported a couple of weeks ago in their story on that new documentary, Bi The Way, "looking at a naked man walking on the beach is about as exciting as looking at landscapes,” for most women. They went on to say that chicks got hot for images of almost everything else on the planet including naked snaps of other chicks, chicks doing calisthenics, and monkey's doing the nasty. But naked pics of guys? Eh.

You, however, I think might be the one exception to that rule...in like a really big way. Which probably explains why the entire city of San Francisco is in a self-imposed fuck frenzy fantasy over you and your new ad for Armani, in all its ginormous glory, in SF's Union Square.

True confessions: I seriously dig you too, though the reason I'm kinda gaga for you is likely not even on anyone else's radar. It's kind of embarrassing actually, because I don't even know what the Christ the proprer anatomical term for these things are--these things of yours that get me all hot and bothered--but I'm pointing to them up above. And also here:

WTF are those things called!?

They're like the river beds that lead to your man lake. Or like the putting green en route to your 18th hole. The on ramp to your man trak. They're gorgeous, and in my humble opinion, are totally your show pieces.

If I knew what the fuck these things were called, I think I could easily start a grassroots campaign to get them the sort of mad props that tits and ass enjoy for women. Like, I'm ready to start a real movement here. But that's really the crux of the whole fucking problem right there, isn't it? Why the hell am I familiar with the word tittsicles and yet I have no clue what those man parts of yours are called?? I mean, I don't even know what the eff I'm supposed to google here?

Which just brings home the fact that its time for action. We NEED to start educating people, David! Knowledge is power! I'm envisioning baby tees, live strong bracelets, and definitely tote bags. Coffee Mugs and baseball hats we can do second tier. If only someone could tell me what the fuck all this merch was gonna be sayin...what ARE those things called???

Anyone?? Please help.

wrecked by Becks,
me

Dear Famous Asshole Goes Head To Head With Perez Hilton's New Subscription Service 'Gossip On The Go'


Dear Everyone, ***

I'm guessing you've probably all heard about Perez Hilton's new subscription phone service by now, but just in case, let me fill you in: basically you send that fat, pink-haired, annoying punk $5 a month, and then he calls you every once in awhile with an annoying, screech-filled recorded gossip news flash.

In case you're wondering why the fuck you'd pay that douche for something he gives you for free on his own damn website every day, you're not alone.

However, as committed as we are to remaining on the front lines of the latest technology trends, Dear Famous Asshole decided to launch a competitive service to Hilton's "Gossip on the Go" program which we are fondly calling "Eh, Whatever, Blah, Blah, Blah."

Always looking towards the needs of you, our loyal readers, our service is far more in depth and comprehensive than Hilton's. In fact, we will call your asses up to 8 times a day (Perez only calls you 8 times a month, losers). We won't be using any special sound effects, are not at all down with enthusiasm or fake screechy queen-isms, and can't promise that we'll actually give a shit about any of the stuff that we're calling you about. But at least you'll know what's up when someone at your staff meeting says "Hey, does anyone know what Jamie Lynn Spears named her stupid baby??"

Best of all, this shit is totally 100 puhr-cent FREE.

You can even take a taste test by clicking the blue arrow on our handy mp3 player below:

boomp3.com

Buy one, get one free,
Me

[UPDATE: We gave Eh, Whatever, Blah, Blah, Blah a good old college try and made it through one whole day of riveting gangsta gossip messaging. Then we started getting barraged by emails from all of our homies on Facebook who were pissed off that we were neglecting our ongoing Scrabulous games...and so we decided to suspend the service. No need for a money back guarantee, though, since you never paid us shit to begin with you cheap ass motherfuckers.]

Friday, June 20, 2008

SYTYCD Week 2 Eliminations: Susie & Marquis Get Jacked In Their Holes

Dear Susie & Marquis,

As Flo Rida so aptly put it: "whoa hot damn, this just wasn't (sic) your jam."

Marquis: you are unbelievably talented and your technique seems pretty freakin' flawless, BUT your name is ridiculous and, for some reason, you def were not as likable as all of the other dudes. I mean, you seem like a way better dancer than Chris, but he's got those eyes...and those adorable flushed cheeks...and you kind of look like Alfonso Ribiero from Silver Spoons. And it just doesn't work.

Susie: as far as teachers go, it just doesn't get any hotter than you. If I were a 17-year-old, Pro-activ usin' World of Warcraft devotee, I'd be jerkin' off to cell phone pics of you e-v-e-r-y night. But let's be honest: you didn't have a jalapeno pepper's chance in Caliente of making it past week three without some sort of divine intervention. I give you mad props for limping through the action as long as you did, and I'm totally positive that the upcoming productions of Grease, My Fair Lady and West Side Story that you'll oversee at your high school are going to be fucking epic. In the meantime, you need to do something about your hair. That shit looks good on NO ONE and as a Hooters-girl-resemblin', pre-pubescent cougar, you gotta keep yourself in check if you don't wanna be mistaken for a tranny at the Salsa bars in Miami.

And so SuMarq, your time with us is dunzo. The cool thing is, we'll always remember you both for going out on the show where Nigel grabbed his junk and Cat went girl gangsta.

We laughed...we cried...we went banoodles.

Asta la vista babies,
me

Jamie Lynn Spears Is Totally Gonna Beat Out Dina Lohan For Mom of the Year, Y'all!

Dear Jamie Lynn, **

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A little girl 4 you-n-Casey!

Maddie Briann is, like, the prettiest name I've ever heard in my life aside from Crystal Destiny or Ashleigh Tiffani...or maybe Brittani with two t's and an i. I'm sure she's so so beautiful and is probs like already primping for her OK! Magazine cover shoot next week. LOL!

I was so glad to hear that Brit Brit was flying down to be with you too, because, like I hear that the first few days after having a baby can get kind of stressful, ya know? And it will be super nice to have someone around who can help with poopy diapers or running out for supplies like Cheetos, Dr. Pepper or those Jack Daniels cuntry cocktails that are soooo good.

Was Casey in the delivery room with you!? ROFL! I'm sure he was! I hope you got some pics of him in those cute little scrubs they let you wear, because I want to see em in your scrapbook! (you BETTER be making one, JL!!!). I was in Wal Mart the other day and they had these little stickers that I thought would be so perf for you to use; they said things like "#1 Mom" and "cute as a button" or my favorite: "president of the hot mom's club!" OMFG..so funny!

When do you think Maddie will be ready to get her first set of extensions? Hopefully by the time you guys do the mag cover shoot!!! JK! But I do think you should use like a really subtle, sparkly pale pink shadow for her when you do the pics--that would be soo pretty! And lipgloss, of course, but like duh!

In the meantime, try and rest up and get some sleep. The baby weight clock starts ticking like right now and you've only got 3 weeks or so to get your hot, sexy, 16-year-old girl bod back before people start comparing you to Kirstie Alley. You might have to go ana for a day or two, but who cares...you're a mommy!

Congrats again, JL! Who would have predicted that you'd go straight from Nickelodeon to the the "hot mom's club" before you you even graduated high school!? Ha. So crazy.

Give Maddie a kiss for me...and Casey too!! (a french one, HA!! LYLAS, JK!)

xoxo,
me

Thursday, June 19, 2008

SYTYCD Week 2: It's Gettin' Kinda 'Banoodles' Around Here

Dear Everyone, ***

Wow, thanks to Mia, we all learned a new word tonight: Banoodles, indeed.

I think before we get into all the dancing shit, I need someone to give me some sort of a coherent explanation as to what the eff Mary Murphy was wearing?! For reals, I wasn't sure if this was SYTYCD or Secret Diary of A Call Girl. Whatever it was, it was fuckin banoodles.

I'm gonna ignore Cat's big bird dress, b/c she's super hot and can pretty much pull off anything (unlike my Mary-cakes), but that shit was pretty redonkulous too.

Now for the motherfucking dancing:

Thayne & Chelsea: Wow, everyone hated the crap out of this number, huh? I actually thought it was pretty ok and was totally digging Thayne's guyliner. I will say that its hard to for me not to compare Chelsea to Season 3 winner Sabra, and since I wasn't the hugest Sabra fan to begin with, I'm not really feelin' any connection to her 2.0 reincarnation. I guess I was kinda meh about them, but didn't think their number was quite the steaming pile of turd that the the "ju-jus" made it out to be.

Mark & Chelsie: Who's gonna punch it in on a "fave couple alert" for these two ninjas? I'm probs gonna have to wrestle Mia Michaels to the death, but I don't give a crap b/c I love these two mofos like a fat kid loves cake. I wanted to hate Chelsie from go...I really have--but I totally love the crap out of her. This Argentine tango they did just rocked the hizzy. It was like Mark was fucking her with his eyes all up and down that stage and it was friggin riveting. I'm ready to go rent some Argentine Tango porn.

Will & Jessica: I feel bad for Jess, b/c Will really is way more of a superstar than she'll ever be...but I dug this number a lot. The choreography was totally hot and Cat used the word "gangsta" twice.

Kourtni & Matt: These two are sort of an odd couple for me. I was surprised that I liked their foxtrot as much as I did, but there is still something about them that's just missing, ya know? I get a very strong feeling that neither one of them are going to be around for much longer. That drop that Kourtni did when she literally almost hit the floor and Matt caught her head was s-i-c-k, though.

Courtney and Gev: This was another favorite number of the night for me, and Mia can stick it up her chucha with all that "she wasn't feelin' it bullshit." I think they these two are insanely talented and adorable and also Mandy Moore is just wreckin' shit up with her slammin choreography.

Josh & Katee: Josh is insane, yo. This Broadway number was awesome, and I usually hate this sort of stuff. Tyce Diorio is like the kryptonite to my SYTYCD enjoyment levels, but this was actually fun and super interesting to watch.

Susie & Marquis: Hold the phone: did anyone catch that red, white and blue geometric jumpsuit that that choreographer assistant was wearing during the set up piece? It was h-o-r-r-i-f-y-i-n-g. Ay Carumba, this number was weird. The choregoraphy was jalepeno peppers hot, but Susie was just meh to the miggity maxx.

Twitchington: Whoa...that was totally freakin' mesmerizing. I do sorta/kinda agree with Mia re: Kherrington's smile olympics, however, I still think these two are like the king and queen of the prom all up in this motherfucker. Also, I found this tribute that Jean Marc and his wife choreographed for their daughter to be like waaay more touching than that number Mia put out on the stage last year with Neal and Lacey in honor of her dad. And, Twitch you are soo my boy. Like for reals, dude, I've been hot for you since last season auditions. If you ever need a baby momma, I'm your girl.

Comfort & Chris: Chris + Krumping = totally bizarre. I don't know if I'm just too old for krumping or what, but I don't get it. I did, however, love Nigel's impression of Chris telling his mom that he had to go pee pee. These two are gunna be in the bottom three for shizzie.

Word.



Ok, so listen up motherfuckers: you best pick up your cellies and vote while the lines are open. We meet back here tomorrow and I swear to christ, if any of my favoritey faves are eliminated (i.e. Twitch, Will, Joshua, Mark, either fucking Courtn(ey/ie) or Gev) I'm gonna hunt you bitches down and beat you silly one by one...and I'm talkin to all nine of you who read this dope ass blog.

Twitch, I'm your bitch,
me

According To The University of Buffalo, I'm A Dirty Little Whore (On The Internets, That Is...)

Dear Everyone, ***

Some folks at the University of Buffalo have been lookin' into my behavior lately; i.e the trashy reality TV watchin', gossip blog readin', Us Weekly sniffing, Gawker Stalker sorta crap, and the overriding conclusion is this: I'm a skank ass ho.

"A new study of television viewing and communication patterns among young adults by University at Buffalo researchers has found a relationship between reality television viewing and "promiscuous friending."

Le sigh.

First off, University of Buffalo--if that's even your real name-- like duh.

You don't exactly need a phD to connect the dots on this motherfucker: "Individuals who heavily watch reality shows are inclined to act in a more "promiscuous" way on social networking Web sites like Facebook or MySpace. They make their private lives available to the public due to the behaviors that they witness.."

The crack team of cultural scientists at UB are right on the money with that shit, because this has proven to be t-o-t-a-l-l-y true in my own personal life. I mean, like right now, for instance, I'm exchanging naked video podcasts with some dude I met in the facebook group "I am way too emotionally invested in SYTYCD" and, though we're just in the planning stages, we're *thinkin* of putting them up on itunes. Last night I got cyber dominated by some guy who left a comment on my post about Miley Cyrus's dance battle (since deleted, you pervs) and also, inspired by Lindsay's recent lez love, I'm in an online three way with an up-and-coming indie rock chick on myspace (who got like a mini shout out from perez, y'all!) and this Asian dude from the Television Without Pity boards who claims to have been featured in the b/g of some Calvin Klein billboard that was up in the "Times Square" of Tokyo (though no links to share, so whatevs). And, like honestly, this is just the shit I'm comfortable talking about here, so there's a LOT more where that came from.

The really weird thing is, before I started watch Living Lohan and SYTYCD and Top Chef and shit, I never did ANY of this sort of stuff. But now, no matter how hard I try, I just can't stop...and now I know why!

This nugget is also like so "hells yeah!" for me: "The more they watch, the more time they are likely to spend on Facebook gaining a larger network of friends, a good portion of whom they've never met and sharing more pictures of themselves."

Here's my technique (and feel free to borrow): basically, I like to do random searches on Facebook for common names like John, Mike, Jenny or Tinsley Mortimer; then I just start blasting out the friends requests doubletime, and laugh my ass off as the approvals start rollin in. Guess how many homies I currently have on my fb friends list people?...11,672 as of this second! But I can't front like that's a final number b/c approvals are rollin in at all hours of the day and night, people...all hours.

Best of all, I have no freakin' clue who 99% of those effers are. If you ARE lucky enough to be on my list though, you can be guar-on-teed that you'll get hit up with a weekly deluge of sexy pics of me doin' all sorts of sexy stuff lookin' all sexy like in my sexy underwears (see my "sexy," "sexy4u," "i'm.hot.n.ur.not" and "bask in the glow of my eternal hotness" albums on Facebook for proof).

Also they said this: "We're All Stars Now: Reality Television, Web 2.0 and Mediated Identities," indicates an erosion of the distinction between the everyday world and the celebrity world, in which common people claim intimacy with the completely mediated identities of such celebrities as Britney Spears or Brad Pitt. " Uhm...Like how??!! Like by starting a blog where you decide to write letters to these people, or something!? That's dumb.

Anyway, my promiscuous, hot-to-trot homies, if you would care to continue down this path of celeb-u-tastic, soul sucking self-mutilation with me, meet me here tomorrow morn for a post about Puff Daddy getting his ball sac waxed.

you know you love,
me
xoxo

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

I Love Mariah Carey, And I Don't Give A Crap Who Knows It

Dear Mariah, ***

I've been meaning to write for awhile now though, in truth, I don't really have much more to say than: OMFG, do you look super, smokin' hot.

I heard about your whole new Luscious Pink perfume thing, and that's pretty cool-n-all too, but mostly I just can't get over how bangin' you look in a bikini now. I know that you're an airbrushing junkie from way back, but when real pics leak, and you're former junk is still nowhere near your trunk, the proof is in the pudding.

As long as we're being totally honest, I also kinda love your new album. Shit, I still love your last album. That song you did with Snoop, Say Somethin'--I'm sorry but I dare anyone on the planet to send me a song that can re-motivate me on the treadmill, in the moment that inevitably always comes like 15 minutes in where I feel like saying eff this exercise shit and eating a twinkie, like that jam does.

But let's get back to you in a bikini: Holy freakin Christ.

love,
me

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Gettin' Meaty With Jessica Simpson: This Bitch Knows Exactly Where The Beef Is

Dear Jessica, **

I know we've had our differences in the past, but this just fuckin' rules.

First of all, there ain't nothing that hits the spot for me like a conrnbeef, vienna sausage, extra rare roast beef with bacon sandy, so punch it in for givin' props to meat lovers like us everywhere. Oprah may be on her 21 day vegan-a-thon, but I say FUCK THAT SHIT right before I pop another chopped liver prosciutto pancake puff and wash it down with a raw egg bac-o-bits shooter. Meat RULZ.

After realizing that your meet lovers tee was not just a simple attempt at double entendre sluttiness, or a mere ode to beefy deliciousness, but also a big fat "bite me" to your BF Tony Romo's ex Carrie Underwood, it made me want to wrap you in fried breading and eat you up like a big ole pig-in-a-blanket. Carrie may be PETA's sexiest vegetarian alive two years running, but you're bringin' sexy back with the beef. And I, for one am roasting a whole effin pig right now in celebration.

If meat is murder, than murder is tasty,
me

Add Me To The List of Pissed Off Customers, Burger King


Dear Burger King, ***

You may as well go ahead and add me to the growing list of devoted lifelong customers who were pretty freakin' pissed to hear about this mother fucking Gold Card situation.

Just for the record, I've been eating Bacon Double cheeseburgers since before I could walk.

I'd probably feel a bit better about this abortion of justice if you were only giving away these keys to the kingdom to cool ass mofos like Timbaland or Santogold, but so far we've got Jay Leno and Hugh Laurie on the list? Are you fucking kidding me with this bullshit? I never even got an a-p-p-l-i-c-a-t-i-o-n.

I'm pretty sure getting date raped by the Hamburgler would have felt like less of a slap in the face than this shit did.

super size my pain,
me

Monday, June 16, 2008

Spencer Pratt Is Lame, And Dave Letterman Like T-O-T-A-L-L-Y Agrees



Dear Spencer, *

Do you know what my fav-oh-rite thing about you is?

OK, I'll spill, it's this: the fact that your last name sounds like the insult I would love to hurl at your Beavis lookin' face with the full force of my venomous bitch-tasticness if I ever laid eyes on your stupid self: i.e. "Spencer, you are such a dumb ass, fucktard pratt, and I hate you with the fire of a thousand white hot burning suns."

Snap!

I mean, how many suckas does that shit actually work with!? Not many...I've looked into it.

My second favorite thing about you that I love/hate is that you are so freakin' up front about the fact that you are a total, manipulative tool. Like in this clip above on Letterman from Friday night where you completely admit that you plotted to get your ass on The Hills way back when. And though you didn't say it, clearly that shit was hatched up while you were smokin' out with your bro boys, playing X box and using your parents money for hooker housecalls one weekend. And now you're like, ON THE SHOW, and engaged to Heidi and writing advice columns, and gettin' paid for staged paparazzi photos and $100k club appearances, and in full force manipulation mode week after motherfucking week in my living room, on my internets and in my trashy magazines.

I really do get it though: you're shameless, and disgusting...and we all lap it up like hungry ass street kittens with a fresh bowl of cafe con leche, so why stop?

My third very favorite thing about you is that I can't really tell if you are a colossal moron, or a brilliant, calculating Lex Luthor type. I mean, like Dave obvs thinks you are a total joke...and you come off like you're a total joke, but the joke is now kind of on us, right?

Deep shit, huh, Spence?

Heidi ho,
me

Big Brother UK, Get This Bitch Some Freakin' Cookies...Like Yesterday

Dear Kathreya, ***

Damn, this shit ain't right.

I read about your recent struggle on dlisted concerning your efforts to maintain a properly balanced and nutritious diet while in the Big Brother UK house. That's some fucked up shit!

You are obvs dealing with some cracked out, unsensitive reality tv motherfuckers who are not yet schooled in the ways of keepin' us bitches happy and healthy. I know for myself, I can only go three or four hours TOPS without eating any freshly baked cookies to deposit in my own pooch, so hearin' that you are dealing with a 24 hour situation is making me feel like I might need to report this to the proper authorities.

In the meantime, if you are out there Big Brother UK, this sort of shit is not going to be stood for! Kahtreya has rights, God dammit! You fuckers ever hear of the UN Treaty??

Get this bitch some COOKIES!

Friday, June 13, 2008

SYTYCD Week 1 Eliminations: Adios, Jamie & Rayven



Dear Jayven, *?

Shit, guys...one week!? I'm really sorry for your asses.

Though, as I don't know you both that well, I'm feeling more of a seeing a person in a wheelchair wheeling themselves down the road on a hot day sort of sorry, rather than a "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME YET!" sort of sorry.

You guys seemed sweet-n-all, but you did fuck things up. You were given a kick-ass routine and a fab new song (sidenote: curently completely ob'd with Estelle, anyone else?), and I'm not even sure what it was, but when it was over I just wasn't feelin' it, ya know? Like we had just completely grown apart in those two minutes and everything we had once had together was just not there anymore, and that made me really, really sad.

I promise to miss you a little bit, K? And you'll always hold a special place in my heart as the first performance of Season 4 (even if it did kinda suck). And I swear I will t-o-t-a-l-l-y try to remember your names later on when you are way off people's radar instead of referring to you as the chick with the skunk hair and the gay dude with a gf who flashed us.

Goodbye forever, JV
m.e.

Want To Make Sure Your Friends Hate You, Your Family Disowns You and your Spouse Files For Divorce? Then You Need To Be On 'The Moment Of Truth'



Dear Everyone, ***

If you haven't caught any new eps of that trashtacular game show Moment of Truth...uhm...again I would say "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??" For reals, this shit is like the Tyra Banks show, but minus all the annoying crap.

Here's the concept: take a stupid/cheating/scheming/bitch ass mofo, strap em up to a lie detector, and encourage them to give up huge, life altering secrets through a series of embarrassing questions designed to humiliate them and everyone they know (most of all, the well-meaning chumps who come with these twats to the studio).

Some of my favorite questions from recent shows:

* Do fat people repulse you? Y

* Have you ever given something to your kids that you shoplifted from a store? Y

* While Working at Hooters, did you ever have sex with one of your customers? Y

* Do you blame your father for ruining your childhood? Y

Now, we've all ready stories about the unreliability of lie detectors, so chances of this all being elaborately staged are high, but god dammit is this shit fun to watch.

I'm alll about hookin' you homies, up, so season pass this shit pronto. In the meantime, check out all of the gut wrenching moments on youtube, like this one where this woman takes her marriage and flushes it down the toilet.

You can't handle the truth!,
me

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Miley Cyrus, You Are So Danceriffic!: The Battle To The Death Continues...



Dear Everyone, ***

Why every single God damned person on the planet is not talking about this Miley Cyrus/Mandy Jiroux vs. Adam/Chu's Dance Crew (ACDC) dance off is truly beyond me.

As far as I'm concerned, I could take all the Brangelina shit, all the B list baby birth shit, and even all the MTV/Hills/"Bromance" shit, set it all on fire, smoke it, and use the ashes to fuel my macbook battery so that i could run a 24/7 dance-r-iffic loop all the live long day. Guys: its the biggest online Youtube dance battle in history! Are you getting this???

M&M have just dropped their latest joint in response to ACDC, and let's just say stakes have been raised...like with a helicopter...and Chris Kattan.

Two months ago I had no fucking clue who Hannah Montana was, but I swear to God, following this M & M Cru/ACDC Dance off, I'm ready to watch that bitch ass show AND buy me a Miley lunchbox to take to work.

True, thus far ACDC has made M&M Cru look like a special needs kids camp dance troupe, but still, my little Miley my my is steppin' up to the plate like a home girl and gettin' her shit dun. I mean, this sort of a production requires like actual crews, and craft service and shit, right?

un-mother-freakin-believable!

Right? Hello?? Can everyone please get as excited about this shit as I am?? What's wrong with you people?

Dance,
me

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Do You Want To Be Brody Jenner's Bro Bitch?? I Sure As Hell Do

Dear Brody, *

Congrats on your new MTV show Bromance, bro. I imagine that it will be bro-tastically Brod-a-licious in every sense of the word.

From what I understand, the showtacular will focus on a bunch of Hollywood poser tools (i.e. "bros"), who will compete for a spot in your entourage through challenging competitions and physical feats of strength. Best of all, your bro beaus will be de-bro'd in hot tub elimination ceremonies!

I'm guessing you're probably still working out the particulars of the format-n-all, but in effort to be pro bro, I thought I'd share a few off the top of my head ideas for challenges that, you know, might make your show more Bro-dacious (if that's even possible):

  • Contestants can work up a "visual timeline" (using Photoshop and shit) of what your face might one day look like if you decide to follow in the footsteps of your Franken-bro dad Bruce.
  • Former GF's/acquaintances/friends/frenemies/grrlz/hookers that you've effed can fuck the new guys and then tell you which one is the worst in bed. See ya, bro!
  • Bros can take turns punching your Kardashian sisters in the face (that doesn't really have anything to do with the show, bro, but it still would be pretty freakin' funny).
  • You could ask the bros to write songs about why they think they'd make your best dream team bro, and then have Heidi record them for her new album.
  • You could give one of the grips on The Hills a BJ so he'll tell you everytime they go out on the road to follow Spencer Pratt somewhere. Then you could all go to wherever that is, every single time, and film there so that little douche bag squared gets jealous (again, unrelated to the show, but seriously fucking funny).
Who would say no to bein your bro, brah?

bro-diggity, boo yah, bro bitch,
me

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Despite Your Best Efforts, Denise Richards, People Still Think of You As A W-H-O-R-E

Dear Denise, *

Phew! Three eps down and shit is still feelin' real complicated up in here!

For example, here's a complicated question that I'm guessing we all struggled with during Sunday night's show-tactular: if you're trying to reinvent your image from that of a hooker skeez-bot into a sweet, brownie baking, pig-ownin' mom next door, why the fuck did you need to hear a "NO" from 17 different people (ranging from your father to your airbrush spray tan artist) regarding the fact that you should not be photographed spread eagled, with a staple in your snatch across the pages of Playboy?

Wait, here's another realll complicated joint, DeRich: why the h-e-double hockey sticks are you parading around your poor, widowed father in his freakin tighty whities, gettin his ass spray tanned, waxing his man parts and basically making him look like more of a wanker than he already looks like for simply just being your dad?

And, why, why, oh why, did you dress up like Cynthia' Nixon's boy girlfriend at a 7th grade dance for that ridiculously staged, and painfully unfruitful meet and greet with producer Joel Silver? I mean, are you trying to make things MORE COMPLICATED than they already are??

Whew, is everyone still with me? Anyone need a minute to deconstruct all of those persnickity multi-layered complications?

Finally, just because you asked, you should be aware of the following:

  • Doing the cover of Shape only made you seem about 3% less S-L-U-T-T-Y in the consciousness of the public at large
  • Yes, we all still very much think of you as a W-H-O-R-E even though you didn't do Playboy
  • Spelling skanky words is F-U-N!
  • Sadly, your kids are doomed
Anyway, have a great week! I look forward to catching up with the speeding trainwreck of your career next Sun!

D-I-S-A-P-P-E-A-R P-L-E-A-S-E,
me

Monday, June 9, 2008

BREAKING: Brangelina Baby Bumpitty Bump Bump Photos On Dear Famous Asshole?! For Realz???


Dear Brange, **

As the world continues to ignore real life honest to gawd news items, such as the fact that we finally have a freakin Democratic presidential candidate (oh yeah, and he's Black); or that there was some major ass flooding this weekend all across the U.S. of A. that, like, killed some people; or that Steve Jobs is announcing Apple's new iphone today, ensuring all of the bitch ass chumps who have the first one feel lame, stupid, jealous and served, its time to pwn up to the fact that you two are pretty much the chief cause of all of this woo hoo.

The world has been on twinsies watch for several weeks now, and until you "deliver the goods," so to speak, we (as in the collective 'we') have no real hope of moving past this on to bigger, better and, likely, even more soul sucking sorts of things.

Word on the street is that you effers are likely going to get offers of up to $22 millies for the exclusive photos of your new little hot mamas, and I def do get that that is a lot of scratch. BUT, I also know that you two don't need a god damned penny of it and are probably busy right now stuffing your new double double's mattresses with the leftover cash from your $60 million ATM run to lease that tres 'Jolie' French castle.

So here's the dealio: I don't mean to toot my own horn here, but I think that I've come up with the single most brilliant strategy for dealing with this whole
baby mama drama frenzy that would virtually ensure, once and for all, that you could stick it to the paps and the media like you've never stuck it to them before. Trust me when I say that this would go down in history as the biggest, baddest check mate move in celebrity canon (E!'s Most Shocking Celebrity Moments, pull out your little notepads right fucking now). Though your place in history is, granted, already pretty firmly entrenched, this would create an unsinkable, rock solid foundation that even those asshats over at Gray's Anatomy couldn't chip through.

Give exclusive rights to your new, sexy, double trouble baby photos to a completely unknown, poorly trafficked, non-entity blog like Dear Famous Asshole!

Hollah!!?? Is this brilliant, or is this brilliant?! Do you love it!?

I mean, come on. You know for a stone cold Steve Austin fact that this would s-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y piss off every mother effer who ever screwed you guys over with a nasty photo, a full-o-lies story or a stalkerazzi moment from the time the two of you first swapped spit. It would be a benchmark moment in the history of media. You would be heroes to everyone: other bitter, thankless celebs who complain how hard it is to make bazillions and smile for the camera, the public at large, who will be spared both the expense and the embarrassment of buying an OK Magazine, and of course, all of the other unknown bloggers with their own poorly trafficked sites, and all of the insignificant fucks who ocassionally, but not often, follow them. You'd be virtually guaranteed another 2 to 3 lines in your Brangelina/Power Couple Wikipedia entry for this stunt, and best of all, you'd be doing a good deed for me too!

I get that we're not talking rebuilding homes for katrina victims or adopting children from third world countries sort of good deeds, but what about helping me to be the architect of MY own future, BRAD?? What about that??
Good deeds, like hookers, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. and I'm just askin' for a little reverse affirmative action, just this one little ole time.

I understand that you'll probably need a day or so in order to submit this idea to the
Brangelina thinktank advisory board, so please have at it. Then give me call if and only if you feel like making the history books with me.

Two babies are always better than one!

Honest to blog,
me