Sorry this post is a little late, I was just too busy last night. Sue me! Just keep in mind, if you do choose to bring a lawsuit against me it will be very frivolous and will most likely be dismissed by any court. I think you should save us both time and money and drop the lawsuit. UNLESS, you take me to People’s Court! That would totally rule.
I really do HATE being late though. It doesn’t really bother me that much when other people are running late but I am personally very punctual. I’m one of those people who actually gets to the airport 2 hours before my flight. Does that make me anal? Do I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder? Do I have Obsessive-Anal Disorder? I’m not sure what makes me this way but I am pretty sure it has something to do with my anus.
I don’t get it. I will never get it. I don’t want to get it. I don’t want to live in a world where Twitter is successful. I don’t want to be surrounded by people “tweeting.” I don’t even want to fucking know the word tweet. I don’t want to know that you just ate cheese fries and I don’t need a live update of the Death Cab set list.
OK, I tried to find a photo or youtube clip illustrating exactly what I’m talking about but after 30 minutes I got side-tracked and started looking at hot tattooed rockabilly chicks on flickr. The internet is an evil time suck! You can relate because at this exact moment YOU are wasting YOUR time!
Anyhoo, I think I can describe this dumb celebrity move without video evidence. Also, I should mention that I already know nobody is going to give a shit about this subject. Tough titty. Do people still say tough titty? Can you tell I’m avoiding the subject at hand? (No pun intended! Seriously, I didn’t notice this hilarious pun until I was proof-reading.)
Fine, fine, here we go…
(Jerry Seinfeld voice) What’s the deal with celebrities always blessing me with their hands? Their beautiful, superior hands. There is something so incredibly annoying when a celeb addresses a crowd, perhaps at an award show, and does that stupid, hippie, hand blessing/bow combo. It feels so condescending and disingenuous. If you could see their thought bubble it would read something like, “me me me me me me me me me me me me.”
I give up, this post is dumb. Forgive me. I’m hand blessing you all right now. Well, actually it’s more of a finger blessing.
Well, aren’t you just king of the fucking jungle? That’s right alligator, Brad owns your bitch ass just like he rules at medium level Guitar Hero and beer pong. That’s right, shut your pussy mouth, gator, Carol is in control now, just like she’s in charge of the motherfucking office lottery tickets every week. HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?!?
What kind of a pathetic turd do you have to be to take pleasure in fucking around with some poor animal in a misguided attempt to look tough? Are people going to see the photo on your fridge and think it was taken in the wild and you are not the douchebag they secretly always thought you were? I don’t care if it’s an ant or an alligator, if you enjoy tormenting another living creature you are a grade-A piece of shit.
My honest desire is for every jackass who poses for one of these photos to have their heads torn off by these awesome, prehistoric killing machines. I want to see them eaten whole and I want to be there when the gator poops out little scraps of J. Crew and, ironically, Crocs. I want their families to watch as a fed up alligator grabs Daddy by his fat face and drags him underwater leaving only his soiled denim shorts and NASCAR hat behind. Ahhhhh, let me take a moment to daydream about that a little longer…
These clips are like porn to me. Go get ’em gators!
I made the mistake of stopping on Mtv this afternoon while looking for something on TV to nap to. I love to nap to the vapid drone of the television. I just do. Did you know your brain is less active while watching TV than it is when you are sleeping? Well, my brain just about shut off to the point of forgetting to make my heart beat and my lungs breathe after I made the mistake of watching an hour of the new season of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge.
In college (and maybe a little out of college) I used to casually watch The Real World. I didn’t technically enjoy it, but I watched enough to be able to tell you that Jay on the London cast loved mac and cheese and that Colin from the Hawaii cast was totally NOT into Amaya but made the mistake of making out with her, probably because he wanted to fondle her huge boobs, and she totally fell in love with him and wanted to snuggle and baby talk and make him kiss stuffed animals every night in his bunk bed but Colin was like rolling his eyes and feeling totally trapped but didn’t know how to get out of it. However I had to stop watching the Real World when A) I realized I was an adult and B) Mtv starting exclusively casting idiots with explosive rage disorder.*
The only thing worse than the obnoxious alcoholics that kick, scream and casually fuck their way around the overly-colorful Ikea catalog that is the Real World house is the same people coming back even more obnoxious and alcoholic-y year after pathetic year to compete** in the Real World/Road Rules Challenge. These people really have got to be the biggest collection of douchebags mankind has ever known.
In the same way that you are a shitty parent if you let your kids watch Bratz, you are an equally bad parent if you let your kids watch ANYTHING on Mtv. Unless you want your child to grow up thinking life is simply a series of ever-growing drunken, semi-nude tantrums, I suggest you keep their tiny brains far away from Mtv.
*I just made that up but I’m sure it’s real.
**Compete = fighting and fucking each other
As I mentioned, I am in the middle of a huge project and until it’s done I’m pretty much not leaving my home office. I no longer sleep or shower and I’m working an average of 15 hours each day. I know, cry you a river.
A byproduct of this schedule is that I’m not really eating healthy. Actually, I’m not really eating. Look at this gem of a meal I “cooked” today. Are you getting hungry yet? NO, I didn’t scan this photo from a cookbook!
I had some nacho chips but none of the other necessary nacho ingredients but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. Way in the back of the fridge I found a 1/4 block of sharp cheddar. Sure, it was moldy but I was able to cut right around that shit and begin to construct my glorious nachos! Things were not looking good but I still had faith that when I pulled that plate out of the microwave somehow a beautiful plate of nachos would appear. Not unlike when Jesus broke a magic loaf of bread into enough pieces to feed 1,000 people! Is that how that story goes?
Well, unlike Jesus, I fucked up my magic meal. I accidentally left my ghetto nachos in the microwave for 2 minutes, turning my cheese into some form of orange lava rock. I ate them anyway.
I’M SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO THINKS THIS IS BORING! STOP READING BLOGS, THEY ARE ALL BORING!
First off, sorry for the non-post. I’m fucking busy so get off my back!
Secondly, shut up. Rather than complain about something in my irreverent and hilarious way, I wanted to change things up and report some You Just Made My List news. For the first time, someone on my list has contacted the site. No, it’s wasn’t Guy Fieri and no, it wasn’t a grapefruit. I’m pretty sure Guy is too busy calling various food items “bad boy” and masturbating to the movie “Swingers” to visit this website. I wonder if Guy screams “You’re so MONEY” as he has an orgasm?
Sorry, I was just throwing up for the last 2 hours but now I’m back. Nope, I have to go barf again, be right back.
OK, there’s nothing left in my stomach to puke up so I will continue. The mystery “celebrity” is Nathan Schwartz, the texting world champion. You may remember Nathan for doing something with a cell phone. I don’t. Either way, Nathan left a comment admitting that he failed as a human being a few weeks ago and I have decided to forgive him. I can see how he won the competition with his lack of punctuation and abbreviated words.
So Nathan Schwartz, I salute you for being the first “lister” to have enough time on your hands to google yourself and find this website. I’m glad you had the balls to stop by and say hello. Although you will remain on my list, I am still giving you a cyber high-five for leaving a comment. Now go get a God damn job and stop googling yourself! LMAO!
(I was able to verify that it was really Nathan who left the comment)
Remind me again why I just spent 5 minutes segmenting your sour ass.
You suck, grapefruit, and I hate your sucky juice. Have you ever taken a big swig of grapefruit juice thinking it was orange juice? It’s like a punch in your flavor balls! It’s like leaning in to kiss (insert the person you are most attracted to here) and as your lips meet and your tongues mingle, this person suddenly turns into your mom! You pull away and think, “what the fucking fuck was just in my mouth?” In fact, I would rather make out with my mom than drink a glass of grapefruit juice.*
It’s not just the juice that pisses me off. I would conservatively estimate that segmenting a grapefruit half takes on average 45 minutes. And for what, one minute of sour disappointment? Fuck off grapefruit. Stop thinking you are as awesome as your cousin the almighty orange. You are just embarrassing yourself. You sicken me.
First off, sorry for the non-post. I’m fucking busy so get off my back!
