Talk With Your Hips

Here's a hypothetical situation:

Due to something your lovely wife did, you're only child is now deaf and blind. She didn't know anything would happen to your son because of her actions, and you still love the bitch like crazy. Now imagine that you could either live together as a family with a handicapped son and a lump sum of money, OR you can kill your wife and grant your child's hearing and sight back. What do you do?

Clearly you keep the money and the crippled son. I mean, come on. Helen Keller! They taught that bitch how to talk! They made a musical about her! She made out like a fucking bandit!

Do yourself a favor and look up Helen Keller jokes. There are some gems. What did Helen Keller say about the cheese grater you gave her as a birthday present? "What a violent book!"

What did Helen Keller get for Christmas? Polio! She had everything else.

How do you get Helen Keller to keep a secret? Break her fingers.

Why does Helen Keller masturbate with one hand? So she can moan with the other.

What did Helen Keller's parents do to punish her for swearing? Washed her hands with soap.

The only thing is, a lot of the jokes are based on the assumption that she couldn't speak. She actually did learn to speak in a fashion, but let's pretend she didn't. It's funnier that way.

p.s. From Wikipedia: "As a young woman, Keller's eyes were replaced with glass replicas for 'medical and cosmetic reasons.' " Whoa, sweet. I guess you learn something new each day. Oh, and Sandy Duncan doesn't have a glass eye. Shenanigans!

Dancing Bears

I checked out the Glee pilot when it was previewed in May, and I loved it. I have to admit I teared up a little at the end when they sang "Don't Stop Believing." I was worried that it wouldn't find an audience, but it seems people have really embraced the show. I'm happy for it, even though there are rumors that the people responsible for the show had to pull a little ponzi scheme or something just to get it to air. Whatevs, like you haven't ever turned a trick in a men's bathroom for a sawbuck. Or super-sized fries back when they were available. Anyslut, the plots are stupid, and only serve as devices to have the musical sequences, which are great. Who cares what the excuse is to have a full-on window-smashing number to "Bust Your Windows" by a big black girl? It could be a Nazi parade ode to Hitler, and I'd still love the music.

Matthew Morrison is adorable, even if he overdoes it with his trademark rapey smirk. I don't know about you, but I'd shut up and let it happen. Do you think it would turn off a hardcore rapist if you were SUPER into it? "I love you so much. I want your babies. I can't wait for my parents to meet you. Let's get a minivan."

Other than the window busting song, my favorite was when the pregnant cheerleader sings. Here's a cover of it:




Here's a warning though: if you're not sick of hearing Beyonce's "Single Ladies" yet, episode four will convince you it is the soundtrack that plays on a loop in Hell.

Also, here's a random piece of trivia for Arrested Development fans out there. The principal of the high school is played by the actor who portrayed Nazhgalia, the unbelievably ugly girl GOB sleeps with thinking it will hurt Michael.

But Classy, Though

Ten points to Gryffindor! for anyone who can place the reference for the title of this post.

An recent obsession of mine has been making buffalo chicken wraps when I get home from work. Complete with "Mexican cheddar jack" cheese and sour cream. I don't use the already flavored "buffalo chicken" from the store, but regular chicken tenders and store-bought buffalo sauce. Today as I prepared to assemble my snack, I needed to open a new bottle of sauce. It had plastic wrap around the top, but there was no perforated section to remove that would make it simple. I held the bottle in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other, and decided that a quick stroke toward the lid would take care of my problem. As I did so, the lid popped off with a portion of the glass intact, and spicy buffalo sauce ejaculated all over the kitchen.

My first thought was of sabrage: when a saber is used to sheer the top off champagne bottles, taking the collar of glass with it. I had to laugh at the déclassé reflection of champagne to buffalo sauce and saber to scissors. I'm perfectly happy with my ghetto, country version.

V for Vagina

"yay, dyke bitch from nip/tuck has her oozy cooze all up in dexter's piece"

Wow I just used the word "cooze" for the first time in I don't even know how long. Seriously, when I think about it, I'm not sure I've ever actually uttered the word. It just makes me feel. . . dirty and shameful. It strikes me as super offensive, like the other C word, but with promiscuous undertones. Alluring, yet tawdry. That sounds like I'm describing a wine.

This '97 Cooze de Fête smells of musk, chocolate, and earth; however, its legs are shit.



Ahhhhhhhhhhhh holy shit I just scarred myself for life:

This is what happens when I Google image search "wine glass vagina" with the filter turned off:
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What is wrong with people??? Oh well, whatever, I hope that bitch got paid a lot and maybe even enjoyed the process. Good for her deadly, scary, Pinhead-from-Hellraiser-looking COOZE.

Fuck Jamie Foxx

I saw Law Abiding Citizen tonight. I won't bore you with a review other than saying there are some great death scenes and some good tension. The only thing I really hated was that Jamie Foxx survived. The whole movie had me rooting for the "bad guy" and wishing Foxx would catch a bullet with his brain.

And then there were the loud bitches sitting in front of us. They talked so loudly during the previews. When my brother turned his head to me as if to say, "can you believe these bitches?" I responded that it was only the previews, they'll probably shut up for the movie. They didn't. For a while I thought of what I could say to get them to be quiet. Can you please try to keep it down? or is it okay to just shush people? Shhhh, please? I thought maybe they would appreciate it if I could connect to them with "if you wanna talk through a whole muthafuckin movie, take that ass to Blockbuster, then do that shit at home." Ultimately I decided that actions speak louder than words. So I let loose a horrendously smelly fart and blew it right at them. Yes, I blew them a kiss from a rose. Choke on that, bitches! I laughed for about five minutes and imagined each of the girls thinking the other was such a nasty ho for stinking up the area. The best part is they were noticeably more quite after the incident.

Sugarplums and Serial Killers

I had a dream last night that a friend of mine had someone she really wanted me to meet. She said I would be excited to see her. When she moved aside to reveal an Asian girl, I did indeed get excited and blurted, "Utada Hikaru!" I thought I was meeting the pop icon songstress of whom I am a great fan, but apparently it wasn't her. They all acted offended that I would just see an Asian girl and assume it was Hikki because, you know, they all look alike. I tried to explain that it wasn't latent racism but that they really did look similar, but it only made me sound more guilty.





I guess it was better than a dream, well nightmare, I had a few nights ago. I was watching some version of Halloween with Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis, and the movie was just about over. The final scene was of a girl who looked just like Amanda Seyfried of Mean Girls and Big Love fame. In a sunny, wooded area there was a log with her head poking upright through a hole in the log. Another girl who could have been her twin leaned into frame and started kissing her. As the new girl left, I could see red marks on the first's face as if she had been lightly sunburned where the two touched. An instant later, her entire face was covered in Freddy Kreuger burns and she turned to look at me, terrified. That's when I realized Michael Myers was in the room with me now, and Jamie Lee Curtis was nowhere to be found. He didn't have his mask on, but he had a large razor blade in his hand. He started slicing the top of my left hand with quick strokes. It stung and left marks, but the blood wasn't flowing. He kept taunting me that I didn't know if this was real or fake, and it scared the hell out of me. Out of nowhere I was gripping over sized scalpel, which I then used to stab him a few times in the chest with no effect. He pulled out a snub-nosed revolver and pointed it at my face. I crumpled to the ground, crying now, knowing that he was about to kill me. That's when I woke up sobbing hysterically. Do I need therapy?

Lazy-Smized

Tyra Banks is still a wealthy, self-centered beast of a woman with a cartoon-like forehead that must house an enlarged brain whose only function is to maintain her status as an evil genius. That's basically my recap of her latest episode of ANTM taking into account the recent statistic published that this bitch made $30 million last year when the rest of us peons who are lucky to be employed are toiling away with more stress and less payoff than ever. The only other thing you need to know is that Nicole "Bloody Eyeball" Fox is amazing and will assassinate Tyra some day. Wouldn't that be fantastically ironic? Tyra trains this meek, awkward waif to smile with her eyes and sell herself to be a model, and she becomes everything Tyra was and more. Then perhaps the day Nicole's spin-off of the Tyra show is to premiere, they will meet in Nicole's dressing room so Tyra can wish her luck and remind her how she owns Nicole, body and soul. "No more," Nicole will whisper as the axe crunches into Tyra's massive forehead, splattering flecks of blood into her eyes, bringing her nickname to life.

Or something like that. Here's an observational interaction I had a little earlier:

Jackee: Omg kara was such a cunt to bloody eyeball! Revenge of BE!

Me: B.E. IS THE BEST. SHE WILL SMIZE ALL THEM OTHA HOEZ TO DEATH. SHE WILL MURDER A BITCH WITH HER FACE AND NOT EVEN THINK TWICE ABOUT IT.

30 My Ass

I'm sorry, but that is not the neck of a 30-year-old. Bitch needs a waddle-ectomy STAT. A neck like that could be Kimora Lee Simmons' segmented caterpillar baby picture, but no other 30yo should look like that.

Dance Dance Stagnation

(not gay at all)

My first step show experience was. . . interesting. I've actually seen an exhibition or two, so I thought I knew what to expect. Not so. The teams were all representatives of campus Greek houses.

First of all, in attendance were so many fashions and hairstyles I didn't know what to do with myself. A question I wonder now is how many pounds of fake hair were in the auditorium? Probably as many as my weight. Needless to say I was thrilled. I knew I was in for a treat before the show even started. I was seated next to the aisle across from the kids doing the AV. Right before it started, I noticed a girl in a really cute dress talking to them, bent over at the waist. The hem of her dress was crazy and asymmetrical, and I totally got a face full of ass. At some point, she wised up and put a hand on her bottom as if to make the pose acceptable. She then got on the stage to introduce the MCs. There wasn't even any lighting, and she started talking into the mic, and no one could even hear her. "Somebody need to put a spotlight on that ho," I heard from behind me. That's exactly what I was thinking.

The first performance was by the Christian frat. I wasn't aware those existed. I asked my friend if they were stepping for Jesus, but really I was wondering if they were date-raping for Jesus. They came on stage and went into poses, waiting for the music to start. At least one of them was standing with his arms out and head hanging as if on the cross. NICE. The music blasted, and one member mimed whipping the other three to the beat as they writhed in pain. It was the hotness. They did some traditional stepping, but I have to say there was much more hip-hop dancing than stepping across all performances. Which was cool with me, I greatly enjoy both.

Mixed in among the frat teams were larger dance crews that did fantastic numbers. My favorite was definitely the team that was dressed as robots and imitated all sorts of sex acts. Sexy robots fucking? I'm there. They all had silver body paint on their faces, but it wasn't heavy enough, so instead of looking like cool Tin Men, they were more like Copper Men. One robot dude was so fwiiiine, I found myself just watching him the whole time. He's dancing, popping and locking, and -oh shit!- a lady robot ripped his shirt off! What a treat.

What determines who I watch the longest at any performance is definitely attractiveness. Is that wrong? I don't know shit about dance, and if you dance better than a stereotypical whitey, it's all Greek to me, so I have to have some sort of criteria.

I recently went to another performance of the ultra modern (I think? At least it was to me) Merce Cunningham Dance Company, and I held to this rule of thumb. Shit was bananas. The soundtrack wasn't so much music as it was noise, but I loved it. The dancing was. . . dancing. And awkward posing. It was way too long for me, but I guess I enjoyed it. I kept trying to figure out if there was some story I was missing out on, but clearly it was over my head. Everyone was in a camouflage sort of leotard with different patterns of black and white stripes on the front and back. It made no sense to me. I flipped through the program before the show and decided I needed to keep an eye on this Silas Riener fellow. Wow. Those leotards might as well have been painted on, and I was very pleased. My eyes were ass-level almost the entire time. Anyway, Mr. Riener delivered impressively and worked up a healthy sweat while doing so. That's kind of what I liked most about his performance over the other men. . . a generous sheen of perspiration. It really gave him an edge.

Step Up 2 The Save The Served

Details to follow tomorrow. . .