You just made my list!

Spoiler alert… Lost can suck my dick!

I just wasted six years of my life on smoke monsters, polar bears, “freckles,” punches to the face, slave ships, numbers, button pushing, hatches, people who see dead people, plane crashes, helicopter crashes, car crashes, spinal injuries, hot Australian girls who become less hot as time goes on, a giant foot, the fucking Dharma Initiative, Walt, temples, electromagnetism, disappearing islands, Tunisia, terrorists with puppy dog eyes, endless walking through the jungle, men who never shave but don’t grow beards, an excessive use of the word “dude,” Driveshaft concerts, skeletons, mercenaries, machine guns, Koreans who learn to speak English in two weeks, sex in cages, time travel, hydrogen bombs, a good guy in white, a bad guy in black and a motherfucking golden cave? And for what? What did it all mean? NOTHING! Absolutely nothing!

Just as I always suspected, the writers of Lost had no clue what was going on and never had a plan to connect any of their mystical dots. If I tried to list all the unanswered questions, plot holes and missing characters I would be here all night. FUCK YOU LOST, YOU OWE ME 6 YEARS!

I never even enjoyed watching the show, I accidentally started watching and only stuck with it because I wanted answers. I was just curious. Well, curiosity killed the cat and threw it into a magic cave until it turned into a smoke monster, whatever the hell that means!

Fuck you Lost, fuck you.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is?

When did this red piece of shit take over Sesame Street? He strolls around the neighborhood like he’s John Gotti, forcing all other puppets to live under constant fear of being whacked.

Apparently this dick has been around since the early 70s, which is strange because I grew up on Sesame Street in the early/mid 70s and I can’t recall ever seeing his lame ass on my parent’s giant TV with sliding doors so you could make it look like “furniture” when not in use. Yeah nice piece of furniture, a giant wood box in the middle of the room. What, were people supposed to come over and gush over what a lovely wood box you had? Come on people, get your head in the game! But I digress.

The point is, I watched a hell of a lot of Sesame Street in the 70s, partially because back then we had about 5 channels to choose from, but mostly because it kicked ass. Cookie Monster was still existing exclusively on a cookie diet, not this “sometime me eat vegetables” nonsense, Mr. Hooper’s Store was the hottest place on Sesame Street to spot celebrities and motherfucking Snuffleupagus was still only seen by Big Bird God damn it! You know who I don’t remember being awesome, or even around? Elmo! I’m guessing he’s Grover’s gay cousin or something but to be honest, I don’t care to know his background.

Somehow through a series of back-alley deals and intimidation Elmo has risen through the ranks to control the Sesame Street territory. I know I should probably fear for my life for speaking so openly but enough is enough, FUCK ELMO, it’s time to take him out!

Fuck me.

Spring is in the air which can only mean one thing… Six Flags will be entering your soul, Freddy Krueger style, while you sleep and filling your mind with nightmarish dancing bald things in tuxedos, all set to a torturous soundtrack of pumping Vengaboys music. Welcome to hell.

Why is Six Flags trying to get me to commit suicide? First they tried to break my spirit with Mr. Six, followed by the yelling mad Asian guy. When I came out of that experiment alive they instructed that dancing penis to talk! I somehow made it through that summer without chopping my own head off but I’m not so sure I can make it to June thanks to the introduction of Mr. Six’s baby(?) “Little Six.” What the fucking fuck is going on?!? I feel like I’m watching an incredibly well-dressed kid with Progeria have a seizure.

And kudos to their ad agency for getting right on that Austin Powers/Mini Me craze (of 1999)! Top notch work.

Take me now lord, I’m begging you!

Yeah that’s right, Listy has dropped the ball again. Sorry I decided to WORK and MAKE MONEY rather than blog for free. Maybe if some of you ingrates would click on my ads and buy a bunch of crap you don’t want or need old Listy (your hero) could stop working on other things. So really I blame you for the lack of a real post today. Way to go jerk.

In other news… I am ashamed of how much I enjoy these bloopers. In fact I’m ashamed of how much I like bloopers in general!

Ever wonder how George Bush got elected?

Thank God your shitty kids don’t have to suffer through watching the same program while you DRIVE TO FUCKING WAL-MART!

Are you kidding me with this? It’s not good enough to have a DVD player in your minivan, now you have to have a TV that allows each of your horrible brats to watch their own show? No wonder every kid walks around like they are King Awesome. When did the world start revolving around white, suburban toddlers?

You know what my parents would have said to me if I asked for TV in our car? They would have said “What the fuck are you talking about? It’s 1978.” I was lucky that our car had FM radio, not that I was ever allowed to control it.

When I was about 8 years old we drove 1200 miles (each way) to fucking Florida from fucking Illinois in a fucking station wagon. And guess what assholes, there were four adults so the THREE kids had the pleasure of riding in the back ALL THE FUCKING WAY TO FLORIDA AND BACK. You know what that station wagon didn’t have? A fucking seat in the back so we rode on a hard slab of asbestos filled plastic. Oh yeah, you can forget about that little fantasy of air conditioning too. You know what the craziest thing about that trip was? The fact that all four adults and all three kids fondly look back at that vacation as the best vacation ever.

It was a great trip because we shared the same experience and we were connected as a family. Sure, much of the trip involved the car being pulled over to occasionally beat the children but we were beaten as a family and that’s all that matters.

The more “entertainment” you cram down your kid’s throats the more bored they become. Some of my favorite childhood memories involve lying down on the back seat as we drove through the country, watching the night sky float past as the AM radio filled the car with static-y warmth. Perfection.

Ridiculous.

I hate to admit this, but I feel it is my duty to be honest. I finally saw the new Guy Fieri game show “Minute to Win It” and I kind of liked it. Not only did I like the show, but I thought Guy was actually a good host. Should I kill myself?

I tuned in so I could write about how much I hated it, and the next thing I know, I was totally on the edge of my seat watching this lady balance plastic cups. Then, out of nowhere, I find myself LAUGHING at some of Guy Fieri’s jokes! Am I in a coma experiencing some twisted dream or is it because this is April fools’ day? I’m thinking it’s the latter you big dumb idiot. Of course I still fucking hate that dime store, rockabilly nut sack.

Fart.

Just when you thought the “singing bass” phenomenon of 1998 that swept its way through every trailer park in America had finally gone away.

Recently I received a Bed Bath & Beyond catalog in the mail proudly selling this HILARIOUS singing fish and the ad read “From the hit McDonald’s Commercial.” I can already hear Michael Ian Black’s snarky comments about this “hit commercial” on I Love The 2010s.

But why go all the way to Bed Bath & Beyond when you can pick this gem up at the local drug store during your weekly visit for Slim Jims, diarrhea medicine and cigarettes?

Please explain to me why a fish would be irate that someone stole his fish sandwich. Why the fuck is a fish eating a fish sandwich in the first place? Or is the Filet-O-Fish he is lamenting over actually one of his family members who could not escape McDonald’s fishing boats? Is this actually a tragic song sung by a grieving fish fighting to retrieve the corpse of his dead mother? Is the real tragedy that this poor fish is desperately appealing to any shred of humanity left in our souls to help with his quest to give his mother a proper burial but all we do is laugh and sing along like a bunch of masturbating monkeys? And most importantly, what could this “bonus track” possibly be? AND most importantly-er, why do I ever leave the house?

At least this fish lip-syncs better those Celtic Thunder dick heads.

Kirstie, can you stay off my TV for two seconds, my entertainment center* can’t support your fat ass anymore.

Everyone’s favorite jiggly tub of sausage is back with a new show about… drum roll… being fat! She first rolled (literally) her way into our living rooms with “Fat Actress.” I never saw the show but I’m assuming most episodes centered around Kirstie being fat and talking about being fat. Oh the good times I must have missed! The beast that ate Kirstie Alley (that would have been a way more kick ass title) is back with a new program called “Kirstie Alley’s Big Life,” but this time around the show is about Kirstie being fat and talking about being fat.

I checked IMDB and Kirstie Alley has been in at least 10 shows about being fat…

– Jesus Christ, Kirstie Alley is Fucking Fat!
– Kirstie Alley Eats Her Way Out of Bags Made of Meat
– Kirstie Alley: Only Slightly Less Attractive Than When She Was Thin.
– STAND BACK, ME HUNGRY!
– Cheers
– Hey, Kirstie Alley Just Ate Everything in My House and Drank My Pool!
– Kirstie Alley Tries to Reach Things
– Look Who’s Choking Now
– I’m a Celebrity, Please Help Me Put My Pants On
– Cloggin’ Da Toilet Wit Da ‘K Dog’ Yo!

We get it Kirstie, YOU’RE FAT!

Writing this made me hungry.

*I don’t actually own an entertainment center.