You just made my list!

First, God purposefully kills Corey on my birthday, then last night he had the fucking balls to cut Haim out of the Academy Awards death montage! When God killed Corey last year, I thought he was sending a message to young Hollywood, but now that I see his latest stunt I can clearly see this is all designed to upset me!

Well guess what God, I think you are a real meanie for trying to ruin my Oscars party. You know I spent two solid hours popping popcorn! I know you saw it because the bible tells us in Levitra 2:13-17 “And so-eth it shall be known-eth that I, the supreme overload, shall keep tabs upon you and will monitor all things great and small, including but not limited to-eth, football games, The Country Music Awards, Childrens beauty pageants, etc. I even watch you while-est you are pooping.”

WTF, God? I will not take this ROFL!

Look at me, I’m God, I hate everything, I’m jealous of people who are funnier than me so I kill them from high atop my magical cloud spaceship. I sit alone in my cloud condo eating sandwiches made out of some animal that only I know about, slowly killing off the cast of Airplane because nobody ever came to see my improv group even though I like totally put flyers up all over heaven. Peter Graves DEAD… Barbara Billingsley DEAD… Leslie Nielsen… SEE YA! Look out guy who had the starring role but nobody knows the name of, because you are next. La dee frickin’ da, I’m God and I’m going to take all my toys home unless someone plays with me.

Leslie Nielsen farts on TV and you love it!

I’m sure all of you were equally destroyed by the news of Bob Guccione’s death and, if you are like me, you will be taking the day off to mourn and reflect.

Rarely does mankind see greatness like Guccione. Playboy may have shown me my first glimpse of female pubes but Penthouse let me behind the curtain, so to speak. It was as if Bob Guccione himself was taking me by the hand and giving me an intimate tour of the female anatomy. Not too many grown men would do that for a 13-year-old boy and he deserves all the praise in the world for it.

Sure, it was scary at first, after all the first issues of Penthouse I saw were from the late 70s and early 80s when a woman’s pubic hair extended 6 inches from her body. Once I worked through the fear it was an incredible journey filled with head bands, baby oil, tan lines, Venetian blinds lit by red and blue lights, naked women washing cars and, most importantly, girls having sex with other girls. My eyes are filled with tears as I type this.

I fear that Guccione’s greatest gift to humanity will be lost. I am speaking, of course, of Penthouse Forum. Forum was better than the pictorials and it was nothing more than real letters from Penthouse readers telling real tales of getting laid. Yes, they were real and I don’t want to hear any more about it! I couldn’t wait to grow up because, thanks to Forum, I was under the impression young adulthood was going to be an endless parade of sex with hot housewives in their pools, sex in the woods with hitchhikers, sex in the grocery store parking lot, sex with triplets and sex that produced a minimum of 8 male orgasms. That son-of-a-bitch Guccione had me masturbating to words. WORDS!

Rest in peace sweet sweet Bob Guccione.

You proud of yourself, God? I bet you think you are king of the fucking universe right now, don’t you? All high and mighty, sitting up there on your cloud, killing two beloved TV parents in the same week. As Christian Bale says, “OH, GOOD FOR YOU!”

Well you finally did it, you made Wally and Beaver orphans. I know you have been dreaming of this day for a long time and now you can kick up your old man feet on some stupid cloud La-Z-Boy® recliner that’s made out of clouds and smells like clouds and give yourself  a nice slow clap. I watched “Leave it to Beaver” every day after Junior High so I can’t help but think some of this was aimed at hurting me.

Let me get this straight, God… Guy Fieri gets to wake up tomorrow and put on his favorite flame-covered bowling shirt but June fucking Cleaver is six feet under? Yeah yeah, don’t give me this “she was 94 years old” bullshit, you’re God, give unto her the ability to live forever! Dick.

Barbara Billingsley being awesome

And then this shit happens…

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days.
Tuesday, kill Mr. Cunningham?

What’s wrong with you? Tom Bosley was Father Dowling, A FUCKING PRIEST, for your son’s sake. Were you jealous that Bosley was on pretty much every classic TV show ever… Car 54 Where Are you, Get Smart, The Mod Squad, Bewitched, Mission: Impossible, Maude, The Paul Lynde Show, Love Boat, Happy Fucking Days, Touched by an Angel!?!

You wish your resume was that strong, God. Let’s see, what have YOU done with your life? You created the Earth 6,000 years ago. BFD! I entered a video in Madonna’s “Make My Video” contest on MTV in 1986 and they fucking played it on the air, TWICE, and said my name, but you don’t see me going around bragging about it every two seconds.

Let me see if I understand this… Mr. C. is dead but right now, as we speak, Guy Fieri is buying a totally “money” belt buckle that looks like dice? It just doesn’t add up.

I realize this Happy Days intro is from the time period when the show sucked and it started to look like the 80s even though it was still the 50s and Fonzie was a teacher or something, but I wanted you to see the super douche move that occurs at the 0:49 mark. Watch closely.

You know what “flickr” stands for?

Finding
L something
I something
Creepy
K something
R something.

OK, maybe I didn’t work that out very well but my brain is about to melt thanks to finding the world’s scariest photo.

I want to be delicate here because the photographer had good intentions (if you call taking a photo of your grandfather on his deathbed a good idea) but holy shit do I wish I never saw this nightmare. I mean COME ON, it’s got everything you need to keep you up at night… exposed light bulb in a dark room, grainy black & white, mysterious little dolls, a crucifix and a dying grandfather who looks remarkably like he’s wearing a “Michael Myers” mask.

Blow it up at your own risk, I’m pretty sure it steals your soul.

Remember when we were kids and we would stroll down to the local penny candy shop to buy as many World Sauna Championship cards as our messy handful of nickels and dimes would allow? We would run home, with old Mrs. Walker’s crazy dog nipping at our heels the entire way, to see which of our favorite sauna athletes we got.

After gathering together in one of our various secret backyard clubhouses, the ritual would begin. First, the wrappers were carefully opened and that horrible pink gum stick was devoured as if it was $1,000 caviar. Next, we began to sort though the cards and the faces of our heroes would reveal themselves. It was glorious! Soon our secret fort would fill with the sound of excited young voices saying, “I got a Bjarne Hermansson!” or “No way, a rookie Annikki Peltonen card!” and “Timo, I got a Timo Kaukonen!” Of course some very serious wheeling and dealing took place for the next hour or so. Timmy would trade a sack of marbles for Skippy’s Ilkka Pöyhiä and Bobby would be forced to give up his pet toad AND a slingshot for his chance to own an extremely rare Katri Kämäräinen.

That night, next to me in the blackness lay my oiled blue steel beauty. The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive. Gradually, I drifted off to sleep, pranging ducks on the wing and getting off spectacular hip shots.

Anyway… Oh yeah, and it kills you.

Not only is MY birthday ruined, I’m sure Corey Feldman is having a pretty shitty day too. This is one of your all time boners, God!

True story… I was in a movie with Corey Haim and spent the better part of a day with him. It was the most beautiful day of my life. What is it going to take for God to kill Guy Fieri and leave the good ones alone?!? God is a douchebag.

If you have never seen Corey Haim’s self-produced video “Me, Myself and I” I suggest you find a copy and spend the day in bed watching it. Unfortunately, it looks like that is how I will be spending my birthday.

Throw it to Lucas, in heaven.

Holy crap, God sure was busy killing his way through Hollywood this year. What is up that guy’s ass lately? You’d think the guy would just sit back, relax and count his blessings, but no, he feels the need to constantly kill the most important people on the planet… celebrities. His long list of trophy kills in 2009 includes:

– Famous white entertainer, Michael Jackson
– Famous big nipples, Farrah Fawcett
– Famous nerd and Dungeons & Dragons creator, Dave Arneson
– Famous Golden Girl and TV abortion getter, Bea Arthur
– Famous porn star and Ivory Soap box model, Marilyn Chambers
– Famous geriatric porn star Blue Iris (why does God hate porn so much?)
– Famous creepy guy, Ron Silver
– Famous creepy guy, David Carradine
– Famous creepy guy and man of 1,000 voices, Fred Travalena
– Famous creepy magician, Danny Gans (why not Criss Angel instead?)
– Famous Burt Reynolds punching bag, Dom Deluise
– Famous lover of teens (in a good way), John Hughes
– Famous inventor of the electric guitar, Les Paul
– Famous rubber band magnet, Captain Lou Albano
– Famous not placer of Baby in the corner, Patrick Swayze
– Famous horrible skier, Natasha Richardson
– Famous fantasy granter, Ricardo Montalban
– Famous Budweiser abuser, Ed McMahon
– Famous beard dyer, Billy Mays
– Famous two-time God victim, Adam Goldstein (DJ AM)
– Famous sexy loon, Brittany Murphy
– Famous White House pussy, Socks the cat.

Well God, are you proud of yourself? Thanks for ruining everything, you ruiner!

I hope everyone has a fantastic 2010 and escapes the cruel hand of our lord and savior.