I know I already wrote some brilliant prose about pimp costumes today but I can no longer bite my tongue on the subject of Balloon Boy and his fucked up family. I wasn’t going to write about them because honestly there is nothing I could say that you have not already thought yourself. But now that I have seen the Henne family rap song I want the entire family tossed in jail.
Check out the Henne brothers rapping about pussification, shitting, farting, pissing and “Faggots.” What a classy family.
Let me explain why this ad is on my list before you get on your soapbox and call me homophobic. I’m not at all homophobic, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be happy that the only available treadmill at the gym today faced this poster. My treadmill was about 18″ away so I was forced to literally stare head-on at Terrell Owens’ chiseled body while I lazily walked along like an old guy at the mall. Hey, I burned off 34 calories during those 5 minutes I’ll have you know!
I don’t need that kind of pressure at the gym. I specifically joined Bally because it’s mostly filled with lazy fat slobs who workout for about 2 weeks before getting bored and retreating back to sucking on the fast food teat. At Bally, I almost look athletic, but not when this shit is staring me down. Is it too much to ask for posters of Dom Deluise or “Rerun” to grace the walls so I can remain delusional about the state of my own body? Why the hell is he even naked in this ad?
Plus, what if coincidentally got a boner while staring at this poster. I have yet to get a boner at the gym, but what if I popped one of those “just woke up from a nap” boners while on the treadmill facing a naked T.O.? What if I accidentally started to masturbate after I accidentally got a boner? I’m not saying it’s likely, but WHAT IF?!?
Fuck it, I’m not going back to the gym until his show is canceled.
Joey Greco’s team of “Cheaters” cockblockers make Chris Hansen look like fucking Cupid!
Look pal, I just want to drive over to my mistress’ generic condo, buy her some drinks at the local douchebag bar, maybe take a quick ride on the mechanical bull and then it’s back to my van for a sloppy B job. If you don’t mind Joey, I would like to do all of this without you and your fancy spy cameras digitally zooming into my face and identifying me with the latest face-recognition technology from NASA. Now kindly get your lip pubes and your mysterious good looks out of my face, I need to go pick up some hard lemonade, a 3-pack of condoms and a chocolate rose before meeting my lady friend in the Olive Garden parking lot. Don’t make me expose the skeletons in your closet, “Joey.”
Yeah, I know I have already written about mega-fuckface Criss Angel, but I don’t have time to write anything good tonight and he’s fresh on my mind thanks to several commercials running during Dog the Bounty Hunter. I’m not sure why I just watched 3 episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I am ashamed. Technically, I’m listening to it while I work. Man, that guy’s wife has some ridiculously huge tits. The Dog family appears to love mullets and Jesus in equal parts. I think I will paint a portrait of Jesus with a mullet and a bunch of dreamcatchers in his hair, and send it to Dog. He will shit his leather pants!
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Crissy. I almost hate Criss Angel as much as Guy Fieri, but at least Criss knows how to wear sunglasses on the front of his god damn motherfucking face. Can someone tell me why Criss Angel is always pointing at me? Keep your filthy finger up Carrot Top’s ass and out of my face, you piece of shit. It must take so much effort making sure you have enough “Thunderdome” outfits to last every day of the week.
Back to Dog the Bounty Hunter for a second… Apparently every person who lives in Hawaii is a major drug addict. Why do all these dirt bags get to live in paradise while I dick around in the stupid Midwest? Why do I do everything wrong?
Has there ever been a bigger cock blocker than Chris Hansen? Sure, he always has a plate of cookies and cold tropical drinks at the ready, but other than that, this guy is a dick!
Actually, my real complaint with Chris Hansen is that pretentious, annoying way he talks. I actually start to root for the perverts at some point. Is there a chance he actually talks like this when the cameras are off? If so, is there a chance he has even one friend who isn’t deaf? Seriously, he’s creepier than almost every guy who walks in the door with a box of condoms and a 4-pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade.
Hey perverts, here’s a little advice, if you go to meet a 14 year-old who you just chatted with online and the first thing he/she says when you walk in the door is “Hey, come on in and have a cookie and a margarita, I’ll be right back I just spilled something on my jacket,” just turn around and get the fuck out of there.
Remember, teen + cookies + frozen drinks = Chris Hansen!
Remember the good old days when Americans could not only speak English but also understand it when spoken? Are we really this dumb?
English subtitles for English-speaking people used to only be reserved for soccer hooligans on BBC America and Oasis interviews, but now it’s commonplace to see subtitles used for Americans on American television! Should we not be worried that TV programs feel the need to use subtitles under people from fucking Florida? FLORIDA! Oh god, I feel a rage spiral coming on.
First, I need to put myself on my list for watching NBC’s latest waste-of-video tape “I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” three nights in a row. In fact, as I type this I am watching Janice Dickinson cry because John Salley called her a bitch and a motherfucker for spilling water in his boots and using his shampoo. Stephen Baldwin thinks he’s justified and Sanjaya just wants to chill on the hammock. Oddly, Patti Blagojevich is the most likable person on the show. I’m only watching because I want to see when the actual celebrities join the cast. I mean, they are going to have celebrities on this show at some point, right?
Anyhoo, thanks to this future Emmy-winner, I have been introduced to Janice Dickinson’s fleshy horror show that she calls a neck. I could probably type the night away about Janice Dickinson’s loathsome personality but it’s really her ghastly neck that has ruined my night. RUINED IT! I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to describe her neck and I think I figured it out. It looks like an enormous, veiny penis! Yeah, she’s a shriveled head sitting precariously on top of a beastly, repulsive monster cock.
