David Archuleta Was Fucking Robbed!

Dear psychotic screaming American Idol obsessed tween girls, ***

This is pretty much *exactly* how I felt on the day I found out that Clay Aiken was gay.

Le sigh.

xoxo,
me

p.s. it only gets way the fuck worse from here, ladiez.

If The Secret Service Ever Gave Me A Codename, I'd Want It To Be Sassafrass...Or Fandango

Dear Jew Scum Media "Gotcha" Journalists, ***

While I enjoyed the hell out of learning that the Obama family has the coolest code names in the double secret CIA history of the universe (Barack Obama = Renegade; Michelle Obama = Renaissance; Malia Obama = Radiance; Sasha Obama = Rosebud), doesn't this, uhm, DEFEAT THE WHOLE FUCKING PURPOSE OF PROTECTING THEM??

Hai, Mr. crazy, psychopath terrorist!

In case you are looking to maime/hurt/spit on/scream expletives at any members of the first family, just print out this little crib sheet and follow around any ole Secret Service agent to pin down their location. It's like your very own GPS!

Please tell me these names were released because they now get NEW names?

WTF?,
m.e.

Apparently You're Now Allowed To Say 'Fuck' On MSNBC (Cuil!)

Dear Joe Scarborough, **

Wanna do some guest posts for DFA?

[this ruled!]

love to love you,
me

Down Is Up, Up Is Down, And For One Shining Moment Elisabeth Hasselbeck Doesn't Act Like A Whiny Fucking Bitch

Dear Everyone, ***

As if the fact that we elected a smart, BLACK, anti-war, elite, Jew scum loving President isn't evidence enough, I'm here to tell you that the whole fuckin world has been turned upside down.

Shit be C-R-A-Z-Y, yo!

I submit the following as direct evidence of the afore mentioned:

1. Steve Guttenberg went jogging naked in Central Park - Ok, maybe this *is* a prank, but even still! And also, I kinda think that this is for reals. Like "the Goot" just got sick and tired of having to adhere to societal standards of wearing shorts on his runs. The wedgies and chafing was just too damn much for him, and he reached his breaking point with this pantsless jog which was, thankfully, caught on tape. He was like that dude on Network or Michael Douglas in that Falling Down movie where he just abandons his car in the middle of rush hour traffic one night. NO SHORTS, world! I jog commando!

2. Elisabeth Hasselbeck spoke...and I didn't want to punch her in her motherfucking face - I'm a big girl, and so I can give props when props R due: Elizabitch, you really did give a lovely concession speech yesterday. And, also I was very touched by the fact that she didn't get her daughter Grace all snaggled up in her web of Republican bullshit when she had a prime opp to do so. I've never seen her act like a non-annoying, non-whiny normal human being before, so it was quite a sight to behold (AND further proof, of course, that the world has gone batshit crazy).

3. I received a "tweet" from my new President - Say what you will about everyone embracing technology, grandmas texting, blah, blah, blah. It's still pretty fucking cool that our new Prez "solid as" Barack Obama had a campaign strategy that included communicating with his supporters via: phone, text, email, Twitter, Facebook, and the regular ole dub dub dub. That's never happened before. Then yesterday, I received the above message on Twitter. I mean, come on! I don't care if the dude had no fucking clue it was happening...and never was like "Srsly, people! We MUST get a tweet out on Twitter NOOOOOW." His ass was smart enough to hire someone on his team who did...and does.

4. Some moron changed his name from Garratt to Captain Fantastic Faster Than Superman Spiderman Batman Wolverine Hulk And The Flash Combined - Yes, I am serious. And no, there are no words.

5. Spaghetti Cat was on Desperate Housewives! - Right, like Edie hangs out on youtube. I mean, I guess some could argue that this isn't exactly batshit crazy, but I'm more amazed by the notion that fucking Spaghetti Cat is now a superstar international celebrity playboy.

And finally, as the ultimate evidence that things are insane in the membrane CRAZY: Michelle Obama, our new first lady and my SYTYCD partner-in-crime, chose to wear THIS dress to her husband's victory speech...in front of the whole fucking world...on election night:

ZOMG.

If that shit doesn't convince you, I don't know what will.

This is a new America, people...and I fucking LOVE it!

power to the people,
m.e.

Watching Angelina Jolie Breastfeed Is Not Nearly As Thrilling As I Imagined It Would Be (Le Sigh)

Dear W Magazine, ***

I really do think its rad that you're coming out with your Angelina Jolie BREAST FEEDING cover...and that you guys are cutting edge enough to not think twice about allowing a little ole thing like BREAST FEEDING interfere with your editorial policy.

But if you keep telling everyone that this BREAST FEEDING cover is coming...and you are hyping the shit out of Angie's BREAST FEEDING cover (shot by Brad Pitt, natch) more than that friggin adorable Beverly Hills Chihuahua movie...and you are releasing early photos of the Ange BREAST FEEDING cover to whet everyone's whistle...uhm, I kinda maybe thought that we might see (I don't know), her BREAST.

Guess not.

[WTF?!]

This Newsweek cover showin' Sarah Palin's mustache is edgier.


Jus sayin,
me.

Clint Eastwood: A Republican Douchetard Or A Bleeding Heart Liberal? U Decide, Motherfuckers

Dear Clint, *

One of our fine DFA readers recently brought to my attention your recent sycophantic ass lick fest regarding She Who Shall Not Be Terrorized By The Right Wing Media, or SWSNBTBTRWM, Sarah Palin.

Despite the fact that this DFA reader dude appears to be Canadian, I like that he's upfront about measuring his own dick, so I feel obliged. Also, I've never really gotten a request before and I kinda dig it. While I'm not exactly Samantha Ronson, rockin the beats for your lisnin pleshure, we DO take motherfuckin requests around here, so I'm gonna lay it all out for the FoOL and pour vous, Clint.

Right here. Right now. Gangsta style.

First of all: I hate your name. Clint sounds like Clit and that's nasty. I mean, who the Christ names their own child after vadge parts.
= FAIL

Second of all: you claim that you used to be Republican and now you're a Dem. And, frankly, I don't buy it. Here's what I think happened: you're a crazy, red, gun totin' Republican; Hollywood (i.e. LIBERAL MEDIA JEW SCUM) starts to find out about this sitch and all the sudden, no one wants to make a movies with Clit Clint; in an effort to protect your rep and have more than Wilford Brimley to choose from for your leading men, you Dem it up.
= FAIL

So, third of all: let's get to what you were blabbing about recently.

This is Angelina Jolie:


This is Sarah Palin:

Apparently you said the following recently: "When you find somebody people want to put down…it usually means there is something there they are afraid of," i.e. jus like with poor Saint Angelina.

Asked if he felt Sarah Palin was like Angelina Jolie, Easwood replied, "They are totally different types. But I am saying there is a star quality that scares a lot of people off."

A. You are 1000% right about people being scared off their nards about Sarah Palin
B. You are smoking a big fat spliff if you think peeps are afraid of her because of her Star-like qualities. Do you mean star-like qualities like these:



Hold the phone, motherfuckers! A star is born!
= FAIL

Fourth of all: you said this regarding the Veep debate last week: "One of the candidates the other night seemed more prone to telling the truth than the other." Everyone assumed you were talking about Joe Biden, but n'uh uh. You were giving a shout out to SWSNBTBTRWM, Sarah Palin.

Here's why I got beef with this one: as much as I'd like to hack off Sarah Palin's hair and make a mop that I would use to clean the floor of an abortion clinic with, I get the "aww shucks," folksy thing. I get that she's "approachable" and hockey mom next door ish and, though it blows my fucking mind, I am kinda smart and watch CNN a lot, and I understand that there are huge swaths of our population that totally dig that. But you didn't mention any of that shit...you said she told the TRUTH.

Even little ole me...who's got Dem juice seeping out of my goddammed eyeballs at all hours of the day and night, understands that both candidates stretched the facts at various points in the evening. I just figure that even if they're both lying their asses off, I like the dems lies way better.

But the "truth" thing is most puzzling to me because Sarah Palin didn't answer a single friggin question all night long! She was in her own little "play" called Rescue My Rep or Else. She barely mentioned any facts, and I'm not even sure she knows what a figure is (oh wait! yah she does). In fact, the most truthful moment she had was when she flat out told Gwen Ifill that she was NOT gonna be answering her silly old questions, gosh darnit, becuz she's a maverick who likes to do shit her own way and that way includes not answering ANY OF THE GODDAMMED QUESTIONS!

So, yeah.

If we were looking at whether or not Sarah Palin was successful acting in her imaginary play and pulling her rep out of the shitter, I would give her some props. But telling the "truth"!? Nobody tells the truth at a motherfuckin debate.
= FAIL

Fifth of all: you're ob'd with making movies about people with guns. And everyone knows that *most* people who dig guns, are Republicans.

Further evidence that you are a fake Democrat Red
=FAIL

Here's the thing, Clit Clint, I never really liked you that much to begin with, though I get that you are a Hollywood legend and have contributed some pretty awesome shit to the wide world of entertainment. For serious you are entitled to your own opinions, and though I disagree with you to the miggity max, I kinda dig our constitution so I think you should feel free to say whatever the fuck you want. I guess what bugs me the most is that you're pretending to be something that you're not. Cuz, I'm sorry, there aint a Dem alive on the planet who would agree that SWSNBTBTRWM did a better job "telling the truth" at the Veep debate.

Take a page from Clay Aiken's play book, dude, and come on out of the closet. Republicans are people too (I guess).

"do I feel lucky?,"
m.e.

I Will Bet You $1.2 Trillion Dollars That Sarah Silverman & Jimmy Kimmel Are in Lurv Again

Dear Everyone, ***

During a day of horrendous fucking news to rival all horrendous fucking news...while I sit here and literally watch the remotest possibilities of my ass being able to retire before I'm in my seventies get flushed down the toilet like a dirty tampon...as my dog sits staring at me unsure if his designer, organic food is going to actually hit the bowl tonight after all (it did, duh), there was one little sliver of sunshiney deliciousness that made this day a touch less suicidal: Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel are maybe back together.

I have no clue why I have somehow decided to pin the success of our nation on the positive or negative status of this relationship, but whatever.

I have.

And, so I have come to the following conclusion: If Sarah and Jimmy are legitimately back together, then everything will work itself out with the economy, the election, et al and we'll all be ok.

If they're not and this is somehow a huge misunderstanding, we're all fucked up the ass by a Haitian AIDS monkey.

No, this isn't exactly scientific, but also I'm probably right.

Sarah-n-Jimmy 2Getha 4eva (say it with me now).

L'shana Tova, bitches,
me

Jump A Jonas! A Jonas Brother WILL Get Fucked (If I Have Anything To Do With It)

Dear Everyone, ***

I present to you all: A call to Arms.

For serious.

I insist that every pair of eyeballs currently reading this shit, stand up and for once in your life, take some action! Do something! Contribute!

There is a radio station in Grand Rapids, Michigan that is offering $10,000 smackers to any man, woman or child that can prove penetration with either Kevin or Joe Jonas (for those of you with a hard on for curly top Nick Jonas...sorry. The dude is only 16, and that's what we like to call i-l-l-e-g-a-l round these parts).

It's the "Jump A Jonas" contest!

Fun!

Now, in order to collect your prize, you'll need to provide two pieces of proof, one of which needs to be a non-doctored video. I would suggest a Flip video camera, if you don't already own one. They're cheap, and super easy to hide in any standard pair of assless chaps or Dominatrix boots.

Now the other hitch is that you'll need to swipe the JoBro v-card with their consent. This point is key, as I guess the radio station doesn't want to be held responsible for a tween hearthrob rape (obvs).

I don't know about you, but I happen to think this contest is totally fucking awesome. In fact, I want to up this shit.

So here's the deal: If 104.5 WSNX actually does find some chump or chumpess who cops to getting a legit piece of JoBro ass, GET IN TOUCH WITH ME! If you can provide me with a pic of you doing something lewd and crude with a JoBro purity ring (JoBro needs to be in the pic too, people!), I'm willing to throw in an extra $500.

Word.

In case any of you bitches live in San Diego, I see that there is a Jonas Brothers concert coming up there on November 15th. You people are particularly well positioned to step up to the plate on this one.

For all you haters, you can go join the 18 other proJoBro l00zers in the STOP THE JUMP A JONAS CONTEST group on facebook. Or better yet, pony up your own hard earned cash in a counter contest: $25k to anyone who can prove they had an opp to fuck a JoBro and, instead, chose to stay chaste, for example. I don't know, figure it out for yourselves...I can't think of everything.

praise Jesus,
m.e.

If Gwyneth Paltrow Tells My Ass To Get GOOPed, Then I'm Gettin' GOOP'd, Goddammit!

Dear Gwynnie, *

OMGZ!

I got GOOPed!

Yay!

I mean, how fucking fantastic is it of you to start this super GOOP-ariffic website where you just share all of your most amazing advice and your juiciest tips with people like me?

(wait for it...)

Ah-M-A-Z-I-N-G.

I mean, I admit that there is a good deal of it that I don't quite understand yet, but obvies its because I'm probably just not as "GOOPy" as you are...but I'll get there soon!

Like as of now, I have no fucking clue what "nourish the inner aspect" means. And also, after clicking on every single page of your website, I still don't have the foggiest idea what GOOP actually means, but that's ok! Right!?

Cause "GOOP is what makes life good."

And I want a GOOD GOOP life!!!!!!

For serious.

Anyways.

THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOO MUCH for launching such a fantastic, wonderful, AMAZING website.

I think I speak for everyone on the planet when I say that this is like totally going to enrich my life in ways I never even dreamed were possible.

Long. Live. POOP GOOP!

GYLAS, (GOOP ya like a sis...LOL!)
m.e.

Jordin Sparks, The Jonas Brothers or Bristol Palin...Whose Purity Ring Is The Coolest??

Dear Jordin, **

Many thanks for your lecture on teen purity and abstinence during Sunday night's VMA awards.

I wasn't aware that "purity rings" were as cool as tats or Aderall these days, but I'm old and married, so what the fuck do I know. If the JoBros are wearing em, I guess they're pretty fucking popular.

It was sorta rad that you were standing up for yourself and shouting the "not everybody wants to be a slut" message from the rooftops...except that, mostly everyone does.

Case in point: Britney Spears mamz has a book coming out in a couple of weeks that, among other things details the following:

While Brit Brit was prancing around town wearing her chastity belt back in the day and singing the praises of virginity, she was also busy fucking the captain of the HS football team as he snorted coke off her abdomen in the back of her private jet. Or some shit like that...you get the picture.

Oh, and also...I'm guessing that abstinence and purity rings are totes the birth control method of choice for VPilf Sarah Palin-n-her brood. She and her God-lovin community probs worked so hard to instill the principles of a chaste lifestyle in her daughter Bristol, and like obvies that worked like a fucking charm.

You're a totally cute girl, Jordin and also a great singer, so I will not for one hot minute participate in any discussion of how wide your ass is, however, I'm also feeling like you should just shut the eff up about this whole purity ring thing.

Here's why: purity rings are fucking retarded.

I def don't want to know what's going on in the lives of most teens b/c I probably couldn't handle it, but my guess is that 98% of them could name at least 5 kama sutra poses more easily than they could 5 U.S. Presidents. We can dance around that shit all day and night if you'd like (to a fucking Jonas Bros album even), but its not gonna change the facts. I'm not saying that's a good thing, I'm just saying it is what it is.

Now, I was NOT a two bit whore myself at the age of 15....BUT, I also didn't need to wear a fucking purity ring in order to advertise this fact to the world at large. Why is that anyone's business? WTF does a purity ring even mean?? And sidenote: why does every fucking aspect of what we say and do in our society need an accompanying material expression? Does every goddammed thing we say need a friggin exclamation point??!!

AND.

I'll tell you something else: If I WAS a two bit whore at the age of 15, you can bet your ass I'd throw one of those suckers on my finger tout de suite just to get my parents off my own slut scent. In fact, I would even venture to guess that all those mofos wearing purity rings at this very minute are at least twice as slutty as all the bitches who don't wear them. These are probably the nastiest, skankiest, freakiest of all the High School whores.

Oh, snap!

Hence, the utter ridiculousness of all of this purity ring bullshit.

Anyway.

Purity rings are just about the stupidest fucking invention I've ever heard of. And If I ever see anyone wearing one (JoBro or no), I might not be able to stop myself from punching the offending idiot directly in the face on principle alone.

I really don't give a shit if you're a slut or not...that's your issue But if you think you're going to convey the fact that you are chaste to me with a fucking purity ring instead of your own actions...and your own words...and your own outfits...than you're way stupider than all of Sanjaya's hairdos.

Girls just wanna have fun,
m.e.

p.s. Russell Brand was a complete disaster, but this purity ring crap had nothing to do with it.

ATTN Baby Name Book Writers: Step The Fuck Away From Vice Presidential Nominee Sarah Palin, Right The Fuck Now

Dear Sarah Palin, *

So, congrats on the Republican Veep nod-n-all.

Thanks to magic of the Jet Blue back-of-ur-seat TV's, I was able to catch your little acceptance speech on Friday in Dayton en route to my Labor Day festivities.

And so, I've had a few days now to marinate over the fact that you genuinely seem like a crazy, right wing, gun-toting, Tina Fey lookin' bitch...which is cuil. I guess. At least for all the peeps who are into crazy, right wing, gun-toting, Tina Fey lookin' bias.

But that's not what I really want to talk about.

Your shout out to former Hillary supporters was clever (slash ridiculous), but despite your not even remotely compelling argument, I'm not quite ready to abandon my commitment to a woman's right to choose, gay rights or gun control just cuz you both have vajayjays.

Nice try though.

(But that's still not what I really want to talk about).

I also noticed that you didn't give any shout outs to teen pregnancy (Baby Bumps, hollah!) during your acceptance speech, even though it appears that your 17-year-old daughter is a slut totally knocked up herself.

But whatevs...that's not even what I'm really interested in getting at.

I got beef that goes way deeper than all this surface shit...and here it is:

*Track
*Willow
*Bristol
*Piper
*Trig

Uhm.

(I just threw up a little bit in my mouth).

These are the very, very unfortunate names of your five children (like, for reals?) and, quite frankly, this is where I think we should all be focusing the majority of our attention.

Cuz this shit is: Fucked. Up.

Individually, these names represent various levels of offensiveness and ridiculosity (from very very stupid in the case of Trig, to only mildly nausea inducing for Willow), but its the collective impact that the five names together have on the question of your judgment that cannot be ignored.

You are clearly not cut out for making any motherfuckin decisions for this nation.

I do agree that we're all entitled to some slack every now and again, but this shit just pushed way beyond even my own motherfuckin limits for tolerance (and might I remind you that the bar is already set pretty darn low).

Anyway.

Looks like I'm still sittin pretty on team Joe-Bama.

Proven Protection...that feels really good!,
m.e.

WTF? Cupless Bras = Stupidest Lingerie Invention Since Those Invisible Bra "Stickers" That Also Do Absolutely Nothing

Dear My boobs, **

Uhm. Yeah.

So sorry, but you need to let this whole open cup bra trend situation pass you right the fuck on by.

Do not pass Go, do not collect $200 benjis.

kthxbye,
m.e.

I'd Like To Fill Up My House With A Tall Glass of You, Dave Coulier

Dear Dave Coulier, **

I owe you like a really big apology.

Not that I think about you much or anything, but it has happened a few times over the years--mostly during an Olsens Twins reminiscence or a convo with someone about the coolest possible last names (obvs, Coulier = cuil).

Anyway.

So, I owe you this apology because for all this time I've thought of you as this washed up, whiny, annoying douchetard. Not quite as annoying as Saget, but annoying nonetheless. That cutesydoofygoofy type humor that you perfected on Full House is, without a doubt, my least favorite flavor of funny, so that def didn't help matters for you-n-me...like at all.

But as it turns out, I had this shit A-L-L wrong: you're a muthafucking playa, playa!

You were the inspiration for Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know" jam!? The one that pretty much became THE anthem for that early 90's grrl power movement?? That song???

Whoa.

That bitch was pissed off at your ass...and she rocked out for years all over the freakin world singin about how you broke her wittle bitty hawt into a thousand and one pieces. And then stomped on it. And then, for kicks, took a piss on it.

Well, I'm pickin up what she's puttin down Mr. Couli-o, and I'm very much likin your flava.

It doesn't take an undercover brutha like Julia Childs to puzzle this shit out. As far as I'm concerned, it all pretty much points to one thing and one thing only: you were givin that honey some serious deep dickin.'

"And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me
You'd hold me until you died
Till you died, but you're still alive"

Ouch.

"Cause the joke that you laid in the bed
That was me and I'm not gonna fade
As soon as you close your eyes, and you know it
And every time I scratch my nails
Down someone else's back I hope you feel it
Well, can you feel it?"

Daym! Even I feel that shit.

You clearly done gone and wrecked her shit up so badly that she didn't even know which way was up. And that sort of low down and dirty mind fuck requires some serious motherfuckin ninja-like talent, Mr. Couli-hott, so you've like obvs got the skills to pay the bills.

[And also you got Alanis to go down on you in a movie theater!? Dude, color me impressed. I could totally see a chick doing that shit for Stamos, but you? Mad props].

Anyway, so like from the bottom of my heart, I really am sorry. I had you grouped in with Danny Bonaduce-n-shit and that just ain't right (you're way more in like the Rob Lowe/David Caruso league).

Srsly.

So, uhm...call me some time if you're ever in the market for a new Couli-Ho.

"cut it out" (not),
me

Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus: Every Bench For Themselves

Dear Men, ***

Ok, so I t-o-t-a-l-l-y get: fucking a HOT, HOME WRECKING ACTRESS (hola, Sienna Miller)

fucking a TEENAGER (save the cheerleader, save the world)

or fucking a CELEBRITY MILF (yep, Brooke Hogan's Mom is dating a 19-year-old)

But this one has me completely freakin stumped: fucking A BENCH

Wow.

Uhm.

Please explain.

Thx,
Me

The Real Housewives of Atlanta Are a Comin'...And It's Gonna Be G-O-O-D, Bitches

Dear Real Housewives of Atlanta, ***

Wowza.

I just watched the preview for your shiny, new Bravo TV show and you bitches fuckin d-e-l-i-v-e-r-e-d.

Now, I'm a hardcore RHoNYC devotee, so I'm not abandoning my No. 1 homegirls just yet, but I already like you bia's way better than the Orange County spray tanned ho hos.

And I'll tell you somethin else: if I was a rich Black bitch, I would get my ass to Hotlanta tout de suite. It's like the Black Beverly Hills all up in there but with way more space. I don't blame you lovelies one freakin' bit for stayin behind those big iron gates in your little suburban enclaves...who the eff would ever wanna leave?--espesh when your ass is libel to get all shot up in the clubs with ur dubs, etc.

Ok, here are my initial thoughts:

[sidenote: Wow, rich black chicks are NOT into boob jobs. Not sure why I never picked up on this before, but its kind of fascinating--espesh since that's like the first stop white chicks make the minute they've got some benjis in the bank. All these ladiez look completely ginuine...except for the white one, of course].

Lisa Wu Hartwell: Ok, so he're we've got our real estate broker/baby clothes designer/screenwriter/producer/jewelery designer (Wu Girls Jewelry!)/gym rat/artist who's clearly gonna be the know-it-all of the group. She seemingly has all of these businesses so that she can star in her own ad campaigns, oh and also because she's stacking "hyper." She's married to linebacker Ed Hartwell and she and her hubby are exercise fanatics, as evidenced by her weird-ish body builder bod, but like no judgment mama cause I can dig.

NeNe (pronounced Nee Neee, ohhhh kaaaay???) Leakes: Holy. Ghetto. Fabulousness. NeNe is, hands down, my fave housewife...homegirl likes to tell it like it is and she doesn't give a shit who's listening. She's married to some old dude named Gregg who doesn't let her eat carbs, and she uses words like "stable" to describe their relationship as she flashes her 10 carat diamond ring back and forth on screen, so I think we can all connect the dots on that one. This chick is all about the dramz and, I swear, if she doesn't get into a physical altercation with someone on the show by the end of the season, I will personally pay every single one of you bitches reading this right now one million dollars.

DeShawn Snow: Not sure what her game is yet, but if I need help figuring it out I can probs check in with her Estate Manager, Head Maid, Chef, Maid Crew, Governess, Driver or Nanny for some clarification. She's married to Eric Snow of the Cleveland Cavaliers and though I know nothing at all about sports, apparently they're doing pretty fuckin well since her house is the size of my entire apartment building. Oh, and also they've been building said dream house for two years and she never bothered checking anything out until it was all done, so stay tuned for those "hey, I thought there was supposed to be a bathroom down here in the roller rink!?" or "we were suppos'd to have 19 bedrooms, not 17!" moments that I'm sooo looking forward to.



Sheree Whitfield: Here's our soon-to-be divorced housewife who's holding out for a seven figure settlement deal. Of course, she's working on her own clothing line (I'm guessing that ALL these chicks are working on either their own clothing or jewelry line) that she's calling She by Sheree, natch. She got the least amount of screen time so far, so she's either boring or boring, but it does seem like she has a cat fight with NeNe brewing in the season previews, so I'm not writin' her off just yet.

Kim Zolciak: Here's our token white housewife who within the first five mins of showing her face on my flatscreen, dropped these priceless little nuggets: "I'm very materialistic...it makes me feel good to have name brands...I don't want anything else. I can die tomorrow, but I'm gonna die wearing Dior." She's dating some rich, reculsive bazillionaire named "Big Papa" who never shows his face and only communicates with her Charlie's Angels style, cause like of course his real wife and family prob wouldn't appreciate knowing that he's fucking some country music singer wannabe on a reality TV show. Not surprisingly, she's BFF with NeNe and obvs that's gonna = trouble in future eps. Oh, and also she can't seem to stop winking at me us and then sticking her tongue out.

All I can say is, goddamn you, Bravo, for previewing this mofo a full month before the show actually debuts. Cause now I am countin the motherfuckin' days like a kid in sleepaway camp with one of those lame ass toilet paper "calendars" where you tear off one sheet each day until visiting day finally arrives.

I am officially ob'd.

Wu Girls,
me.

Would You Like A Condom With That Kidsmeal, Flavor Flav?

Dear Parents, **

Shit. I feel sorry for you people...I really do.

The world used to be a way simpler place. I mean, there actually used to be a time when you didn't need to worry about strangers with candy, anthrax in the mail and...your kids doin' the nasty at six.

I mean, YOUR kids are probably not knockin boots at pre-school, but it is happening out there in the world. And as with most social and moral dilemmas of our day, Flavor Flav's house is ground fucking zero:

(interview with Complex)

Complex: How uh…when was this?
Flavor Flav: This was when I was real, real, real, real, young.

Complex: Like elementary school? Or middle school?
Flavor Flav: Nah, I’m a tell you the truth; I lost my virginity when I was 6 years old.

Complex: Really?
Flavor Flav: Yea, man. Because you know we learned to have done the nasty back in the days, and me and this girl we experiment, we were experimenting, and my little joint got hard, I penetrated for about a few seconds.

Uhm.

Wow.

Six-year-old Flavor Flav peen wood.

Good morning, America!
me

Senator John McCain 'Hates the Bloggers'; Bloggers Hate Senator McCain Back

Dear Senator McCain, *

Uhm, you started, so gloves = off:

I'm not particularly fond of your old, buttoned-up, war monger-ing, homophobic, reckless, Heidi Montag lovin' ass either.

Out of all the things in the freakin world to hate right now (i.e. the state of the economy, world poverty, Cancer, the Summer TV schedule, THE WAR, David fucking Hasselhoff), you've decided to "hate the bloggers?"

Wow.

Blog it long and blog it hard, bitch,
Me

Happy July 4th To My Snatch!

Dear Everyone, ***

While you're all out getting sunburned and building sand castles-n-shit, me and my vadge are goin' to the spa!

After all, if you haven't got your pelvic health, what the hell else is there, really?

Buff-ur-muff,
m.E.

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

That Ain't Right, Candy Spelling, And You KNOW it

Dear God, **

WTF is up with this barrel full of smashed assholes sitch-u-ayshun? This Candy Spelling bitch wins $180,000 at a slot machine when she's already worth 600 millie? Way to fall asleep at the wheel, dude.

Pray for,
me