You know how at the age of 10 we would all fill in Mad Libs with witty and intelligent responses like “farty” and “boobs” and “bloody tampon?” Well, we were all infinitely funnier than Lisa Lampanelli and her lazy insult “comedy.”
In fact, constructing a Lisa Lampanelli “joke” is not unlike filling out a Mad Lib. You simply need to follow this boring formula…
“You sir, in the front row, what are you a fuckin’ [racist ethnic term]? Is that [derogatory term for a woman] your date? You’re a lucky lady, I want to bang your [racist ethnic term] boyfriend because after we [overly shocking sexual activity] he will [commit a stereotypical ethnic crime]. Oh sorry, you don’t like it, I hope you get [fatal medical condition].”
Genius!
Fans of this hack will argue that I’m “overly sensitive” and “too politically correct” but the truth is I gravitate to offensive fringe comedians and it’s not easy to offend or shock me. Shocking is great as long it’s FUNNY! In fact the only thing shocking about Lisa Lampanelli is how utterly unfunny she is. She has got to be one of the least clever comedians in the history of comedy.
I would sit through 100 Carrot Top shows before I would endure even five minutes of this tedious bore. I would rather spend a night in Las Vegas with Guy Fieri declaring everything he sees is “money” than allow even one more farty joke from that bloody tampon to enter my boobs.
A couple weeks ago I attended the ultra-hip Pitchfork Music Festival. When I walked in the front gate, I thought I had possibly just passed through some sort of Michael J. Fox time portal to 1986. I was thinking, “Shit, have the past 25 years been a dream? Am I still in high school? Am I a virgin again?” Luckily I was still in 2010 and it was simply thousands of unoriginal, uninspired ironic hipsters walking around looking like extras on a John Hughes movie.
There are too many details to write about when it comes to these hipster turds, so I will focus on two unfortunate fashion trends that I thought I would never have to suffer through again.
Two-tone Ray Ban sunglasses!
Life’s a beach, right guys? These glasses were dumb in the 80s and they are even dumber now. If memory serves me, this style of sunglasses was never actually cool in the 80s. They were usually cheap promo items with some company name stamped on the side, like “Newport” cigarettes or “Pert Plus” shampoo. Maybe that’s why they are cool now because they are anti-cool? I can’t tell anymore. All I know is that your funny, ironic sunglasses suck and you smell like Pert Plus.
Girls with giant glasses!
This is a new trend in female hipsterdom that is concerning to me, I call them “Mary Gross Girls.” With this phenomenon we see frumpy girls working their hardest to take their frumpiness to new heights in an attempt to make us think their frumpiness is totally on purpose. “I’m actually super sexy under these culotte shorts that accentuate my incredibly smooth mom-ish FUPA. This mess is all on purpose!” Oh yeah, and they wear giant mathlete glasses, blah blah blah.
WHOOPS! All day yesterday I thought it was Friday. Guess what I don’t do on Friday? That’s right, I don’t share my hilariously important opinions on Fridays.
So everyone loses! Well, maybe we all won.
I feel that I owe you something, so here’s further proof that God hates parkour and does his best to sterilize all who participate in it.
Happy Birthday America! You are the best and never do anything wrong!
Bruce Willis is really a ghost. Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson are really superheroes. Water kills aliens and Mel Gibson’s wife tells him to swing some dumb baseball bat on her deathbed. The village is really an experiment and the movie actually takes place in modern times. The lady in the water is, I don’t know, magic or something. Plants are making people commit suicide.
SPOILER ALERT! Whoops, I did that wrong.
Feel free to send me thank you cards and gifts for saving you from wasting several hours of your life sitting through this bullshit. I prefer vintage acoustic guitars. (No Spanish or classical guitars please and obviously pre-1970)
First of all, how did a guy named M. Night Shyamymallanam7an even find work in Hollywood? What ever happened to directors with names like JOHN FORD and COEN BROTHERS? To be honest, I don’t have the five minutes it takes to say M. Night Shyamama$llayaymama, I’ve got shit to do, pal. I have a recall on my car to repair something that might cause my car to burst into flames and it has gone ignored for over 4 years, what makes you think I’m going to have time to pronounce your fucked-up name?
Remember when we all saw The Sixth Sense for the first time? After the movie we walked to our cars excitedly talking over each other, saying things like, “I never saw it coming” and “that kid who saw dead people was sooooo good” and “I totally can’t wait to rent this at Blockbuster on VHS video tape format so I can look for clues.” Well, we were a bunch of assholes. The sooner we can admit it the sooner we can begin the healing process.
I’m writing this from my phone because Comcast is shoving the internet up its own ass! I’ve been without an internet connection for over 14 hours now and it’s seriously cramping my style. How will I keep up with every single cute thing my Facebook friends’ kids say? Don’t even get me started on an ENTIRE DAY without porn! I hate you Comcast, I want my porn back!
I’m going to keep this short for exactly 2 reasons.
1) I got home late after dinner and drinks at the latest trendy hipster whiskey tavern (more on that later).
2) My neighbors are going apeshit because we won the Stanley Cup and there’s a good chance our apartment will burn to the ground by morning.
3) There’s only so much to say about these assholes.
4) It’s late, I’m tired and I hate blogs.
Sooooooooo anyway. Tonight was my second trip to the latest hipster hangout in Chicago. It’s more saloon than “bar” and the amount of waxed handlebar mustaches and suspenders holding up tiny pants is staggering. Apparently now it’s cool to look 90s… 1890s. Just ask loyal reader of this amazing website, Erica, about the transportation of her coworkers.
My point is this… FUCK YOU, YOU RIDICULOUS BORING HIPSTERS.
My point is also this… I have coined a phrase for this new breed of precious turn-of-the-century hipster and all I ask is that you spread it and make it catch on. The “Urban Howdy Doody.”
You know what the world needs? The world needs another shitty splattery painty-paint painting of Jimi Hendrix. If only it could be painted in five minutes by a prancing nerd with a wacky “rock and roll” attitude… an attitude that says “I wore SHORTS to the U2 concert!” Oh, and can all of this please take place at the Motorola “May The Sales Force Be With You” conference in ballroom C at the Phoenix Radisson? Thank you.
Speed painting is to art what Sammy Hagar is to Van Halen. Speed painting is the Guy Fieri of the art world! In fact, you know who I bet LOVES speed painting? I promise you Guy Fieri has a splashy speed painting of himself in that crazy rock and roll house of his.
Bob Seger + theater nerds + Jay Leno = the nightmares I will have on my deathbed.
Damn, that Credit Union Lending Direct party was OFF THE CHAIN! I guarantee he had the image outlined in pencil before he started “painting.”
Finally my love of shitty performance painting collides head-on with my love of church! Jesus Christ.
Why can’t douchebags drink beer from a normal bottle? They just aren’t happy unless they are drinking their watery piss out of a plastic bottle, a metal bottle, a wide-mouth bottle, a bottle shaped like a bowling pin,* or a bottle shaped like Mike Ditka’s cock.
If only there was a way to suck down this shitty beer slightly faster. Introducing the “Vortex” bottle from the makers of your favorite diaper juice, Miller Lite. Apparently this NASA-designed bottle creates an internal tornado of beer blah blah blah that speeds up your drinking schedule, allowing for more rounds of Golden Tee and moderately gay horseplay with your bros. Seems like maybe they are admitting their “beer” tastes like water sitting in an old tire and the best way to get though the experience of drinking it is to get it over with quick, just like when your mom used to ram a spoonful of cough syrup down your throat.
You are probably wondering if this new technology actually works. Well, you are in luck! In the following clip, four of the smartest scientists on Earth gather to test the Vortex at the world famous Horseshoe Lounge labs in Geneva Switzerland. It might be difficult to follow everything they are saying but don’t feel bad, they are processing thought at an elevated level that you and I could never comprehend. These people are as smart as computers! It happens off camera but I think I recognize the voice of Korean Physicist Kim Ung-yong declaring, “The Vortex bottle is full of shit.”
*The Budweiser bowling pin bottle is actually the greatest thing to happen to beer. Too bad it was filled with Budweiser.
