Chris Rock was Right!!
- Last night, to test a hypothesis, I invited 5 random black males from the casual encounters section of Craigslist to hang out and watch The Oscars with me. Let me tell you--Chris Rock was absolutely right when he said straight black men don't watch the Academy Awards.
I mean, I had no reason to believe one way or another before I conducted the experiment.
But when Dwayne, Cliff, Theo, Arnold, & Willis showed up to my apartment without a single bag of Dipsy Doodles on Sunday, something seemed instantly queer. They sashay-ed right into my studio and started a pillow fight over who had the best hair during the The Oscars pre-show. It became unanimous--Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows.
After the laughter died down, I interjected, "It must be nice to leave all your girlfriends at home to spend an evening with 'the guys' on Oscar Night, huh?"
"Why don't you just take your pants off, white boy," said Dwayne on behalf of the group.
"Ummm. I'm fine actually." It dawned on me then--these black guys watching the Academy Awards are really totally gay! The next 15 minutes were filled with awkward silences and tense leers.
Right after Selma Hayek won a lifetime achievement award for speaking English, I leapt from the couch, said to Cliff, "Hey dude, seat check," and ambled to the kitchenette area to grab a Coors. I opened the fridge and hollered, "Would anyone else like one?" No response. When I turned around, Theo was fellating the engorged shaft of Willis while Willis rimmed the spread ass of Arnold as he swapped orifices with Cliff in a sixty nine position—right on my futon! And guess where Dwayne was jerking off? In MY seat!
"Arghh!! I called seat check! I thought we were just going to be a bunch of black dudes chilling and watching The Oscars, but I guess my expectations were set too high. Everyone out--now!"
When they finished shooting their loads all over each other, the men sheepishly gathered up their stuff and left.
Chris Rock was so right.
Countdown to Pacification Extreme Caption Contest - 9 More Days
- Once again, an outraged Hulk Hogan was available for comment:
"This is bull! I took vitamins, I said prayers. Let me read you this letter from a Hulkamaniac: 'Dear Hulk Hogan, I loved you in 3 Ninjas 3: High Noon at Mega Mountain. Why don't you make more wonderful movies? Love, Bobby the Orphan.' Well, Bobby the Orphan, I would... but Vin Diesel keeps stealing my vehicles! Diesel!!!"
Without further ado...
The Pacifier Extreme Caption Contest!
What you got??
Countdown to Pacification - 10 More Days
This is Vin "replacing his usual arsenal of wetsuits and weapons with diapers and juiceboxes."
That duck looks hilarious!
A furious Hulk Hogan was available for comment:
"I can't believe Vin Diesel stole my next paycheck! Disney was all set to begin production on "Mr. Nanny 2: My Nanny is Slowly Dying of Steroid Abuse" when all of a sudden some dudes came in and turned off all the lights at the studio. They drove away with my trailer!"
Attention! Nashville area wotSAT readers!
How to Get Your Free Screening Pass
Does the Greyhound go to Nashville? More importantly if I got on now, given all the broken axles, blown out tires, and in-transit passenger riots, can I make it by 7am?!
I will not be pacified until March 4th, 2005!
Say Something Nice To... Paris Hilton!
Poor unimaginably wealthy Paris. Someone hacked into your T-Mobile Sidekick this weekend and released your photos, your personal notes, and the numbers of all your superstar friends. Well, I find the internet reaction to the news to be despicable. I’m not gonna be one of these lame-os who gets his rocks off by brutally making fun of you during one of your worst public crises yet. Take my girlishly weak shoulder for support as I say something nice to cheer you up.
--You've proven to the world that despite all signs that would show otherwise, Fred Durst has at least one friend. That makes him feel good.
--Having "Dr. Pat" as your general practitioner instead of Dr. Sanjay Gupta further reinforces my longstanding belief that Dr. Sanjay Gupta isn't really a doctor, but actually some dude Anderson Cooper met in the men’s room at Splash.
--As embarrassing as it might be to have Ashlee Simpson in your friends list publicly revealed, be thankful you never saved Jake the Snake Roberts' phone number when he gave it to you.
--It's safe to say that each and every one of us has topless photos of ourselves making out with random lesbians or of us snuggling with Burt Reynolds. The internet needs to quit player hatin'!
--The world no longer pays attention when new pictures of your overexposed boobs hit the streets. The world, will however, become slightly intrigued when it hears that shots exist of you fisting Richard Simmons while he hangs in a bondage harness.
--Since you don't have an actual career at stake or an oeuvre founded on artistic merit, each new scandal can only make you hotter. Paris Hilton, you are the Teflon of the new millennium.
--In an effort to make it up to you, T-Mobile will graciously waive the charges on your 39.99 monthly plan
Say something nice!
Other times I've chosen to take the high road:
Say Something Nice to... Ashlee Simpson!
Say Something Nice to... Viktor Yuschenko!
Presidents' Day at Burning Bridges
- The BBGCC wasn't planning on coming out with any Presidents' Day cards this year because last year's unsold production filled most of Staten Island's Great Kills landfill.
However, creative brass at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company still thinks there's a hot hidden niche market for this holiday.
The cards ain't exactly flying off the shelves. I dunno...
Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 3
- "Room proprieter number two: I totally liked the 4 sets of first party Donkey Konga - Conga drum paddles, it says you won’t settle for 2nd best and that you have three friends. I also liked the skin mags and the massive cum stains all over the place, it shows you’ll probably be up for plugging me all the time. However… I didn’t like all the booby traps—that motion detecting arrow shooter almost killed me."
"Now, it's off to go see room number 3!"
Crap. I'm next. I'm sitting partially nude in a passenger van with two other dudes watching our rooms get raided in real time by a horsefaced and homely girl named Suzanne. Her friends call her The Sooz.
Her vehicle pulls up to my brownstone in terrifying Park Slope, Brooklyn. She gets out and we can hear shouting and gunshots in the background. The Sooz races upstairs to the splintered, broken door of my open studio apartment. She takes one cautious step inside.
After a minute of speechlessness, The Sooz turns to face the camera.
"Seriously--what the fuck?"
Dildos of various shapes and sizes were scattered across the living room, nickels and pennies littered the floor, my wall size Celine Dion poster lay on the ground in tatters.
"I’m not a big fan of all this squalor. I came here to find stacks of cash. NOT loose change. You think this impresses me? What's with all the dildos?? There's like three dozen. You only have two usable orifices."
"They're Debbie's! My former roommate's—I swear," I say to the dudes as I try to get high fives out of them.
Back to the girl—"Mmmm, okay. I like all the pink shirts in your closet," as she picks through my clothes. "It shows you're confident and comfortable in your sexuality. Oooh. I don't like this gold lamé three piece. That’s not cool."
She goes on, "Not that I will ever choose you, or that you even have a life worth living, but all of America would love to see me make fun of your bathroom on television."
She steps in front of the closed bathroom door, turns the knob, and kicks it open.
The Sooz begins screaming and hyperventilating. "Oh my, oh my oh my oh my!" She then runs out of the apartment, out of the building--her arms flailing wildly in the air. The camera crew finally chases her down the block and stops her for comment. She buckles over and gasps.
"I definitely did not like the Sunni Muslim taking a dump!"
"Debbie!!" I shouted as I clenched my fist.
To be concluded!
Comments Overheard at The Gates in Central Park
“No Alberto Tomba, you can not ski through them.” – Alberto Tomba’s assistant
“If the Alliance of Power were here, they would knock all of The Gates down and destroy everything.” – A terrified mother
“This is lovely. 7500 perches for Pigeons to poop on you from.” – Girl with nice jacket
“To coincide with the artist’s vision of creating a work that only exists in a singular time and place, wouldn’t it be awesome Peg, if you sucked my cock right here, right now?” – Peg’s date
“I just can’t decide which one is my favorite. I love them ALL!” – Guy with knotted scarf
“Woof woof! (I must conserve my urine so I can mark each one accordingly.)” – Some dog
“And if he sticks the landing, Blaine Wilson will secure the Silver for Team USA in the Men’s All Around.” – Announcer watching Blaine Wilson as he prepares for dismount
“This orange material will make a great blanket for me rip down and sleep on.” – Some homeless guy who needs to shape up
“1st quarter profits are soaring! Our stockholders will be pleased.” – CEO of JoAnn Fabrics
Please Befriend Me, Michael Jackson
- I am not a Backstreet Boy. I do not have a big afro. I am not a blind piano player. I was never a child actor, or a New Age guru, or a psychic, an illusionist, a CNN Broadcaster, a Late Night comic, or a basketball player accused of rape. And despite doing countless—countless—kegels, I do not have a 12 year old’s butthole.
But c'mon, Michael. I can be your friend. There’s gotta be room for me somewhere on that witness stand. Please.
I'm only pleading with you because I want to hang out at Neverland during the off-season.
Regardless, I am here for you Michael Jackson. Subpoena me. I'm in your corner. When the Prosecution asks, “Does Michael Jackson fuck children?” I will cross my arms and vociferously declare, “Probably not!” When the nation's toughest attorneys stare me down and say, “Has Michael Jackson ever plied you with alcohol in an attempt to get you to whip out your pooper?” I will furrow my brow in disbelief and voice out, “Heck no. I doubt he'd ever do that!” Even if the lawyers were beating me senseless with snap-kicks and calling me names, I'd say, “My guess is that Michael isn’t capable of such acts because I read once that he's had his penis removed and replaced with a permanently flaccid prepubescent prosthesis.”
Surely I must have done something with my life to warrant your friendship. I just want to hang out, testify a little bit, then get some no-wait snow cones at The Ranch before you go to prison and your place is bulldozed. I’ve tried to approach other inexplicably non-human celebrities about hanging out at their bizarre homesteads, but Sigfried and Roy won’t return my calls.
The Alliance of Power will Keep Destroying Until There's Nothing Left
- I don’t mean to alarm anyone by the following statement, nor do I wish to cause widespread online panic. But the fact of the matter, truth be told--the Alliance of Power owns you.
People love casually throwing out statements like “The pestilence lined streets will flow fresh with the virgin blood of the nonbelievers,” and “Those who should choose the unrighteous path shall be cut in two by the soul eating sword of Memnoch!” My grandma says shit like this to me all the time.
However, the Alliance of Power will make due on each and every hollow promise it makes.
I dare anyone to step to this. We are badass mothers. Look at us. There’s 15 of us. How many of you are there?
For information on initiations and upcoming destruction, please inquire within.
Now Recruiting for Hot New Online Gang
I was speaking with a West Coast webmistress last night and we bounced around some ideas to take blogs to the next level.
We are starting an online gang.
We're going to fuck shit up. Take down the status quo. Find some cyberturf and then protect it. We're going to do it with keystrokes, lots of bullets, and Fosse hands.
We don't have a name yet. And there's only the two of us in it so far. We're going to go around to unsuspecting bloggers and sites and beat the crap out of them in their comments sections. We will be a powerful, united, nationwide front that unleashes carnage and destruction wherever we choose to go. We will also be fun.
Recruitment begins now. Are you IN?
Terribly Unfun Facts: Health Awareness at the Office that Won’t Help You Anyways
- --8 out of 10 mutilating escalator accidents occur when an errant shoelace gets caught in the teeth of the moving steps. The other 2 are caused by shotgun blasts.
I’m never riding an escalator again…
--Shaking your hand with an associate is the easiest way to contract germs and communicative diseases. Shaking your donger after peeing is the easiest way to contract genital whiplash.
I probably just shouldn’t shake anything…
--While you’re working, the cell phone in your pocket is shooting deadly radiation into your groin. While you’re sleeping, the cell phone on your nightstand is plotting to undermine your family values.
Maybe I will just get rid of the cell phone…
--Every day, thousands of desk jockeys go untreated for minor paper cut related injuries in the workplace. Every day, thousands of lumberjacks go untreated for deadly logging tool related injuries too.
It's a vicious cycle of pain I want nothing of...
--Carrying important documents in a messenger bag shows that you’re really youthful and hip. Carrying important documents in a Fashion Bug Plus bag shows that you’re really fat and downtrodden.
I can’t go on like this…
Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 2
- Part 1
Clutching a moldy shower curtain to my naked loins, I raced to rip down the wall poster of Celine Dion caressing her "miracle" as I threw down my wallet and shattered a glass peanut jar filled with loose change across the dirty hardwood floor. While struggling to hurl out the window a Yaffa block jammed with the oversized dildos my former roommate left behind, I felt an Enzuigiri connect with the back of my skull right before blacking out. I was subsequently bristled out of my apartment by the Room Raiders production staff.
I awoke on the floor of an Astrovan, sandwiched between 2 other groggy looking dudes. I peered out a side panel, and it seemed we were parked in front of a Wal-Mart and the crew was out shopping. Looming near us was a TV with a video camera duct taped to the top of it. The power was on.
I tried to kick open the un-unlockable rear doors and I howled “Let me out!!!” at least twice before deciding my efforts were totally futile. MTV had me right where they wanted me.
The groggy dudes came to upon hearing my helpless wails.
“How did they get you guys?” I inquired tenderly.
“I was hit in the gut with a sledgehammer,” said a dude whom I looked better than.
“They got me with a steel chair,” said the other dude whom I looked way better than.
“Wow.” I replied. I felt really great about looking better than both these guys. We introduced each other and I noticed they weren’t making eye contact with me. It then struck me that I was still without clothing.
“Hey! Get off my shower curtain, you stupid gays!”
I pulled it out from under them and wrapped my torso in embarrassment.
All of a sudden, the TV turned on and a girl appeared on the screen.
To be continued!
New Valentine's Cards Rolling Out
- Jeezus H! It's been crazy busy at the Burning Bridges Factory gettin' our line ready for Valentine's Day. There's been so many supplies that needed ordered, I haven't had a spare second to shirk away from work to blog! One minute, middle management was demanding more paper clips and 3 hole punchers. The next minute, they were chomping on the bit for a new 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs' Assistant!
Tomorrow, I'll continue prattling about my dreadful experience on Room Raiders. I pray that ep never sees the light of day...
Weekend Community Graffiti Project
- Although not indicative of his astounding gift for the written word, Funnsylvania Rob has a great post today filled with the only thing that fills your infinite abyss--funny jpgs.
Here's how the Weekend Community Graffiti Project works. You take the jpg below and add something to it, building off of what the previous additions are. Two ways of doing this: 1) Alter the picture using Paint or Photoshop then resubmit the new jpg via firstname.lastname@example.org for posting or 2) Add a comment saying what you would like to see done to the picture and I'll work it in. Either way, be sure to notate your contribution to the community.
Here's your inspiration:
Yesterday, I was Culturally Relevant: The Arcade Fire @ Irving Plaza
photo via Eats Dirt
The cultural relevance just don't quit. I totally achieved it once again simply by spending 3 gazillion dollars to score a ticket to the final show in The Arcade Fire's Bowery and Beyond: NYC Concert Trilogy.
For those who recall my previous rise to relevance, it was almost marred by a short person. Once again, height deprived people fought in vain to ruin my life. I was shoving my way through the crowd just left of center stage to get to the front and I see this huge gap of open space dead in the middle of the throng. "This is where I can stand," I exclaimed! And then I looked down…
Would you believe a half dozen grown demi-adults ranging in height between 4 foot 7 and 5 foot 1 were all huddled there? I was shocked and enraged. From a visibility standpoint, you might think that it's great to be standing behind them. But my goal was to get as close to the stage as possible so I could mosh and do some floor punching. Now, if I were to stand in front of the lil' ankle biters, I wouldn't hear the end of it. But lurking behind them was worse, because I kept fearing they were going to get squashed or broken. I graciously offered to lend a hand and boost them up to the balcony—but they thought I was kidding.
Thankfully, four songs into The Arcade Fire's set, the band's leader climactically teetered on the front edge of the stage and leapt with his guitar into the crowd. And just as I feared and wished for, all the short people were trampled as everyone rushed to bounce around the singer.
All I remember thinking the whole time he was on the floor was, "Dude, whoever does their dry cleaning must be a millionaire."
Get it? They sweat a lot. And wear the same formal wear every day.
So what made the night relevant? Was it merely their power packed shows? Hmmm… there was definitely something that made this more relevant than before. I can't remember. Let me think. Okay… trying to focus. Oh man, what was it? Oh yeah.
DAVID FUCKING BYRNE
During the encore, The AF hauls out a steel drum for a Talking Heads cover they've been known to do and all of a sudden, David Fucking Byrne comes on stage and the crowd goes bananas. FYI: He’s still got the hips of a 7 year old boy, the hair of a 70 year old man, and the voice of an angel.
At the end of the show, reports say people were heard outside saying, "You didn't know who that was? That was the singer of the Talking Heads--David BRINE!"
Others who were culturally relevant:
Brooklyn Vegan -- With great audio & links!
Out of Focus -- With a great story!
Central Village -- With a great camera phone!
Eats Dirt -- With the greatest pictures ever!
The last time I was culturally relevant:
The Arcade Fire @ The Bowery Ballroom
Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 1
- The reason I'm so disgruntled with MTV is because a few weeks ago I answered one of their ads for their TV show, Room Raiders. It's that one where a floozy traipses without warning through a potential mate's bedroom seeking out material items that would be indicative of the immeasurable complexities of the dude's unique soul. After looking at three rooms, the broad then decides which guy she wants to give blowjobs to based on how many stacks of cash she finds laying around. I figured this would be the easiest way to fingerbang someone who's been on tv, so I enlisted.
Anyways, I was taking an extra long shower today when a camera crew broke down my apartment door with a fireman's axe and kicked open the bathroom. I wrapped the transparent mildewy shower curtain around my lathered body and screamed and screamed.
"Surprise! It's Room Raiders!!"
I continued screaming.
"Now get in the van!!"
The muscle tried to grab me and I pushed past them into the living space. My mind was racing! Oh crap oh crap oh crap. In just a few minutes some girl is going to inspect my room for compatibility and stacks of cash. I need to throw anything incriminating out the window before the crew tackles me!
To be continued!
Newsblitz! MTV Hates YOU!
- MTV wants to give you 100 bucks to enrage and humiliate you on national television while they rake in hundreds of thousands in advertising!!! The following are actual posts by MTV on Craigslist. The last one horrified me.
You bring your girlfriend to the hardware store for a quick errand but when you get to the store the girl working there is all over you. She’s super hot like the “Tool Time” girl and she keeps using sexual innuendo with you about getting “nailed” and “drilled” and she’s completely ignoring your girlfriend!!
Do you have an impatient female friend that you've always wanted to set up on a blind date? What if you set her up with a nice guy who turned out to be a crossdresser?!? Would she flip out? If so, let's get her on TV!
Your friend comes to our salon for a bikini wax. While she’s sitting in the waiting area our actress sits down next to her. The actress tells your friend that she’s never had a bikini wax before – she asks your friend tons of annoying and personal questions until your friend freaks out on her!!
You tell your boyfriend you got him a spa day to get his back waxed. Then while he’s sitting in the waiting area he hears howls of pain coming from the waxing room. Suddenly a guy runs out with no shirt on, screaming, with a strip of wax paper hanging off his back!!
Couples This Is For You! Museum Madness! Prank your BF on MTV!
You tell your friend you got an amazing offer to get your make-up done by a world-famous make-up artist. Then, when your friend shows up to get her make-up done, it turns out the make-up artist just had eye surgery and can barely see! She makes your friend look like a ridiculous clown!!
Do you have a boyfriend that has a temper? What if you told him to pick up a piece of engraved jewelry for you and when they got it- it was the wrong engraving? AND THEN THE SALESMAN DENIES THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG!?! Would he freak out? If so, let's get em' on MTV!
Eat a fetus on MTV!!! Prank your BF!!