Rock of Slut Bus: Fuck Cereal

At the beginning of today's ROLB episode, Taya told Beverly that she should carry around a tacky purple pillow because it accents the tacky purple weave she has in her hair. The voice of reason Ashley chimed in with "This is the most boring conversation I've ever had. I'd rather just sit here in silence." If I were into manly chicks, I'd be into her. I'd give her the ole clit tickle.

Bret, or rather the producers, brought Heather, Ambre, and the contestants' exes in for this episode. Beverly's ex-husband declined to participate, thus proving he's deserving of at least a little respect.

Taya's ex Jaz (yeah, with a name like that, is he in the "industry" as well?) was protective of her, even saying to Ambre "Where's the dishonesty and distrust in what I'm saying? With your stapled-ass extensions on your head." Ambre then did her best impression of a blow up doll in shock that someone would make such a claim.

Oh and then Brittanya punched and spat at Heather. That was nice to watch. I just wish she had better aim. I guess she doesn't have much practice spitting.

Ashley knows she's in some shit, because her "ex" is there telling everyone with a pulse that "nobody could pull my shit." What does that even mean? He's her babydaddy, and it turns out they still live together. Ashley said their relationship ended a long time ago, but James said "We fuck all the time." Aaaand Trashley has a tattoo on her left titty of the name James and told everyone it was her son's name. I don't know her crotchfruit's name, so maybe it's also James, but apparently babydaddy has her name tattooed on his crusty body.

My favorite girl was in a pinch, and she said she was having fun until her bff Farrah left. Clearly she wasn't there for Bret. But really, who is? Who sees him on television or wherever and thinks "what a beautiful soul"? They just think maybe they can win and bounce on it without vomiting long enough to quit stripping for a little while and get your baby taken care of for a minute. Unfortunately bitch had to go. The show will be lame like people who eat basil from now on. The Blondetourage has fallen!

Her parting words were amazing: "Bret got rid of [Farrah], and I had to be stuck with these girls who made me wanna kill myself. Seriously. They talked about cereal for three hours yesterday. Are you kidding me? Good luck having fun with Gopher and the 1986 prom queen."

I can't find her MySpace page, but I'll keep trying. I could only find a couple fan-created pages. I tried to burst their bubbles and inform them that she gets kicked off today, but I'd have to befriend them first, so no thanks. I think we can all agree that she needs a spinoff. It can document her rise from lowly stripper to. . . um. . . stripper/prostitute? Or stripper/prostitute/comedienne?

DO NOT WANT!

There's a line in Britney Spears' latest single "If U Seek Amy" that goes "all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy." This is delusion speaking, no? Do people still want to fuck Britney Spears? I mean besides chubbychasers and nutfuckers (those who are into crazies). Eight years ago it was totally acceptable for a guy to list her as most boneable, but today? You'd get laughed right out of your frat with your pink popped collared polo shirts flying after you. Even now that she's "sexy" again. Is it because she can never deny this?



If you bounced on it today, you'd still be reminded that she's batshit crazy and looked like Uncle Fester. Oh, and her favorite breakfast is cheese grits with "sprinkle cheese." That last part is enough for me.

I knew a guy in high school who made sure everyone knew that he knew it was Britney Spears' 18th birthday. Because, ya know, she was now a consenting adult for crazy circus weasel sex. The problem was that he was a flaming faggot. I'm talking hotter than the sun. He would open his mouth, and Judy Garland would fall out as he'd proclaim his lust for the Orange One. I think he's still putting on the ruse. Although I did get an IM from him a couple years ago offering to have sex with me as a response to my away message. I think he was drunk. I hope so. Either way, he's never gonna get it, never gonna get it. Never gonna get it, never gonna get it. Never gonna get it, never gonna get it. Never gonna get it. Never get it.

Tyra Banks, Fierce Murderess

I managed to make it through America's Next Top Model last night without vomiting, and I'm quite proud. Aminat (who by the way had an afro weave that when removed left her head looking like she had both cancer and mange) introduced a nifty little catchphrase: "Keep it cute, or put it on mute." I had to watch the rest of the episode with no sound. Tyra was criticizing someone at the judging and said, "It's almost like you've never heard the phrase 'smile with your eyes.' " GASP! Translation: WELCOME TO THE THUNDERDOME! I really thought it was go time. Everyone knows she expects contestants to do their ANTM homework and memorize every word she's said on the show! Why the fuck do you think the "models" are there?!? To highlight Tyra of course! I thought she was about to pop a vein in her tenhead and smother a bitch. "I have NEVER in my life killed a girl this way! I was rooting for you, we were all rooting for you! How dare you! Learn something from this!"

You know what I learned? Tyra Banks has beaten a fierce horse to death, and must be wishing for a deranged person to extinguish her miserable existence, thus immortalizing her.

On No, It's Real

Class With The C(o)untess is actually happening. Some dumbfuck actually paid this uppity bitch to write about her journey from lowly trash of Native American heritage to gold digging slag and give baseless etiquette tips on the way. By the way, I thought we were calling them American Indians now. The best part of the book page is the discussion forum. It has one post:



Cristina Fischer says:
From the Post, about de Lesseps's antics at a friend's wedding:LuAnn, who was there with her husband, Alexandre Count de Lessups [sic], seemed overwhelmed with affection for her fellow guests. "She was trying to make out with women and married men," the source said. "A pregnant wife caught her in the act, stormed off and walked home in disgust." Alexandre "tried to make her leave and was seen throwing her to the ground in the parking lot," our spy continued.

OMG! The Countess is that sloppy, old sorority sister that you had to invite to the wedding but you were nervous would lose control and misbehave. (Those ones always prove you right for dropping them the minute you turn 26.) Apparently LuAnn wasn't just kissing married men, she was grabbing at their crotches, too. She also stole the mike and started singing songs during the wedding band's set, thereby interrupting the dancing - the worst marriage party foul of all. LuAnn and the Count deny the entire "Page Six" report. Still, we can't wait for Bravo! to try to re-create the scene, and get one of their reality producers to take a dump in the "Just Married"-mobile and pin it on LuAnn.



I came across a photo of the Crusty Cuntess' son today:



It's creepy that he has the same haircut as his mother. On the other hand, they would totally win Motherboy!

Zzzzzzzzzz

The real housewives need to duke it out or dyke it out already, because these bitches are straight up soporific. I haven't decided if it's a good thing that soporific is the first word to come to mind. Anyway, I'll save you an hour of your life. Jill is boring, New Girl is lame (except for being arrested recently), Ramona has bug eyes, Luann is delusional, Alex is human Ambien, Bethenny is the only one in on the joke, and they're all cunty. The best moment occurred when Alex was packing her house for renovations:

"Probably don't need the denim ball gown, as much as I love it."

Hey, Tulsy Tsan, NOBODY needs a denim ball gown. Ever. Moreover, that's a fucking oxymoron. It's more like something Britney Spears would call her "eatin' dress."

One of the disturbing yet comforting facts of the world is that truly ANYONE can get laid. If you look hard enough, there's always someone kinky or strange enough to fuck the unfuckable.

Fatherhood

I'm just going to share my favorite part of the recent G's To Gents with you. The suave fellow you see above has a baby mama at home, and he receives a phone call alerting him to his situation:

Friend: I got some bad news. You got twins on the way, boy.

Oh snap, let's see what his BM has to say about it:

Baron: Whatchu finna do about that?
BM: Whatchu think I'm gonna do about that?
Baron: You don't need money tho? (the subtitle on the screen actually appeared as "tho.")
BM: Yes I do. Badly.

Was I the only thinking she needed money for a 2 for 1 special on unbirthing? Damnit, I know I had that coupon around here somewhere!

By the way, there are way too many pages for definitions of abortion on Urban Dictionary to read at the moment, but here's a good one:


7.
abortion
795 up, 749 down
The hilarious procedure in which a soon-to-be ugly baby is instead destroyed before it has a chance to wreak havoc on the world.

Contrary to popular belief, abortion is actually a life saving procedure. The rate of aborted babies that went on to commit murder is 0%, a percentage significantly lower than the rate of unaborted babies.

When it comes to "when life begins", a poll of aborted babies concluded that none of them minded being aborted too much. Their response was similar to that of a pool of semen, who were also not very distressed at not getting a chance at life.

Abortion should be a mandatory procedure for anyone not capable of raising a child, or with genes deemed "unsatisfactory."

Adoption Agencies should eliminate all of the infants they get. (but only if they haven't recieved their soul from god yet!!)
by IEATLIVEPUPPIES Apr 28, 2005

Bitches Gotta Go

Finally! A satisfying episode of the Bad Girls Club. The bitches are still in Mexico, and Ailea and Boston are gloating after beating up Cookie. There's a great clip of Boston trying to pass the blame because to her, you nevah take ya shoe off and hit somebody. She goes on for a couple minutes about how wimpy it is and how a real woman kits with her fists. Meanwhile the clever editors of the program show footage of at least three instances in which she wields her shoe as a weapon.

Sarah and the new skank (I can't even be bothered to remember her name) sate their cock-hungry cuntholes with their Mexican playthings. Here's a snippet of their conversation after:

Sarah: Is that bad that I just did Noah's high five after I just fucked a weird Mexican?
Other: Who cares? You used a condom. It doesn't count.

That is quite an admirable attitude, young lady. How many guys do you have to have sex with to obtain it? Sarah is quite pleased with herself. She says they're using their sex appeal to get what they want from the guys. I'm sorry, but it's not really an accomplishment for you to get drunk and have sex with a guy. Besides, the natives were using you too. Don't act like a pimp, because you know what? Like your mouth, vagina, and anus, it's a two-way street.

Initially after the beatdown, Ailea insists that she did nothing wrong in her eyes. That's okay, honey, Chris Brown didn't do anything wrong either.

Then Tiffany either proves she has a conscience and a heart or a healthy fear of consequences. Either way, it prompts her to quote some bullshit fraternity/sorority mantra about excuses.

The cops interview everyone, and Ailea denies wrongdoing and fingers Boston--no, not in the vagical g-spot kind way. Boston gets kicked off the show with no regrets of ganging up on another girl to beat her up. You're not giving your namesake a good reputation, sweety. I hope she was welcomed home with cyanide cocktails.

Tiffany calls a house meeting and calls Ailea out for being a hypocritical twat. Ailea gives the most pathetic apology ever and says she's sorry for how Cookie feels about how things went down. Sigh. Then she offers to go home, thinking that Cookie won't follow through with it, but oh she does!

And that's the story of how in the course of one day the Fab Five became the Thick Three.

p.s. the picture is only tangentially related to the BGC. It's a picture that shows up for a Google image search of "Ailea," but it's strangely fitting for the Thick Three theme.

More Memories

For some reason, Celeste brought old school memories back. I used to make fun of my teachers, as many children did. I was a little different in that I used my drawing skillz as a weapon against the teachers and a tool to get the other kids to like me. One instance comes to mind. For some reason, I hated a certain English teacher in middle school. I actually ended up liking her, but I guess to seem cool I constantly wrote notes and drew pictures about her. I only got caught once, but it was pretty bad. I had drawn a picture of her as a stripper. It only just occurred to me that I knew what strippers were at 12 years of age. Thanks for never censoring my television and movie viewing, Mom and Dad. So I drew my large teacher with titties down to her knees and a leg wrapped around a pole on stage. Not only had she pissed all down her leg, but the poor broad had had her period on the pole and floor. Ho was a mess. It was all in pencil except for the blood and piss of course. It was titled "Ms. ****** Sucks Shit." We were having a good church laugh about it in her class, when my friend Denise betrayed me and tattled! I thought we were boys! I crumpled the sheet and momentarily considered eating it, but it was just too big. Teacher took me to the hallway, and I remember almost pissing myself. My parents were called, blah blah blah. Whatever, you know what she should have done? Fostered my interest in art! She irresponsibly punished me, forcing my 12-year-old self to equate drawing with negative consequences because I didn't know any better. Thanks, bitch, I could have been drawing smutty cartoons in porn magazines all this time.

I Almost Forgot!

I've finally remembered the name of my one time lady friend:
Celeste.

Ahhh, isn't that a classy false name? Here's a short conversation Rex and I had a few months after the incident:

Rex: She was kind of old wasn't she?
Me: Affirmative.
Rex: And she wasn't that pretty, was she?
Me: No. No she was not.

Just The Two of Us

I ordered lots of my favorite underwear online last week, and it has arrived. I once accidentally bought XS, and the results were like a scene in a Judd Apatow movie. Medium feels too loose on the waistband, but small is just right. Almost. The problem is they need to be broken in a little. Here's the issue: the first few times I wear them, the crotch doesn't quite contain my balls. So until they stretch properly, I show sidesac. Or as my old teammates use to say, "hairy gum." It happens a lot with tight little speedos. As you might have learned from life experience or the movie Waiting, guys love tricking other dudes into looking at their genitals. Is it supposed to be some kind of punishment? Like you're gay if you notice it? I'd see it and respond with "lookin' good." I just went to get a glass of water, and guess what? SIDESAC. It happens. There's a bumper sticker for you. I've drawn a diagram to help you properly picture it. I did take a picture of the real thing just now, but even I have my limits.



Here's a story about my testicles. I couple summers ago I went to the beach with a few friends, and I wore a suit that kind of looked like short boxer briefs made of Lycra. Those fuckers, like Amy Winehouse, could not handle the junk. It seemed like ballsac was showing at all times. To make light of the situation, I posed for a lovely cellphone picture. I sat cross-legged and completely pulled a nut out of each side of the suit. This was some Chinese ball contortion. I snapped a crotch shot and sent it to all my friends. I chose ocean noises with seagulls and captioned it "just the two of us."