Hot Girl of The Week: Melissa Lee

Actually, since my December was filled with hectic holiday events and shopping (aka heavy drug usage), Melissa Lee will be the Hot Girl of The Month, because let's be honest; everyone wants to laugh at my questionable taste in women.
















It's not secret that I love Asian girls (Well, it's not anymore), even though they sound like a squeaky bed spring in bed. However, there is an angry, oppressive segment of the population that looks down on Asiaphiles, and says mean things about us that make me curl up into a pathetic ball of human misery and just weep softly into a pillow into the night. Those bastards.

The only way I can explain this is what I call the "Beatles-Theory". Now, the Beatles were a band that no one cared about or even ever heard of until the late 2000s when their movie "Across The Universe" made them cool. Finally. But then we learned something awful. Yoko Ono, a notorious Lennon-seducing Art-hater, ruined The Beatles. To prevent anything else from being ruined, society decided to ridicule any white person that wanted to shack up with an Azn Gurl.

Well, sorry, society, but I find myself irreversibly drawn to watching CNBC's Fast Money, an insanely boring stock market analysis show which presents the viewers with absolutely useless information, because it is hosted by Melissa Lee. Melissa Lee also hosted some pretty boring CNBC documentaries, including Porn: The Business of Pleasure, in which Lee interviews some incredibly creepy people. Needless to say, I could not resist the allure of Lee's Azn-ness, and was forced to watch a documentary about Coca-Cola, and let me tell you - it was torture, every second, but it was all worth it when Melissa Lee appeared on the screen and asked about Coca-Cola products.

If I could give Melissa Lee any advice, it'd be: Shut up and kiss me, fool.

Unfortunately, I don't think Lee and myself would be compatible as a couple, because journalists and bloggers are like Jews and Muslims; an explosive mixture of rage, sand, and chick-pea-based chip dips. You see, journalists are professionals at manipulating information, whereas bloggers just screw up information in a very sloppy and unrefined manner. Now, let's say I seduced Melissa with my irresistible wit and empirical good looks. If her colleagues found out, they would probably put a hit on her, and she would be sniped by the same guys who killed Kennedy! DUN DUN DUN




















God help us if the Chinese take our hot CNBC hosts away.

2010: A Look Backwards

2010 was an amazing year.

Amazingly bad. I can't wait for 2012 to get here so we can meet the Lizard-People of Planet X. This year was boring as Hell. Once again, the truth about extraterrestrial life was not revealed, even with Wikileaks and President Obama's pledge for government transparency. I know we can't be the only forms of intelligent life in the universe, because if we were, how did Stone Henge happen? Case closed. I know some people might say that the odds of life evolving from simple cell organisms into advanced civilizations capable of intergalactic travel are like a trillion to one, I always tell them that it's also extremely unlikely that a person would be attacked by a grizzly bear and a polar bear on the same day, but that happens all the time.

Furthermore, Alison Angel's wikipedia page was deleted by Jimmy Wales. He personally went to the Alison Angel page and hit "delete" because he was raging because that Fox News girl dumped him after selling his dick pix to Glenn Beck. Then Jimmy Wales has the GALL to post:

PLEASE READ: AN URGENT APPEAL FROM WIKIPEDIA FOUNDER JIMMY WALES

Readers of Wikimedia, I need 16 million dollars.

I understand that this is a large sum of money, but this Porsche isn't going to pay for itself, unless of course, I find an entrance to an alternative reality in my coat closet in which cars can come to life and work for their masters working in the barley fields.

If everyone just donated a little bit of money, maybe 5, 10, 25, 50, 100, 200, 500, 8000, 1000000 dollars, then that would be just dandy. Remember, Wikipedia is made up of unpaid and undocumented workers, and our servers are dirt cheap to maintain, but I still need a massive sum of money for some unexplained reason.

When I started Wikipedia, I was inspired by Maddox (Whose page I read frequently) not to put ads on Wikipedia, which created a dilemma of how I was going to pay off my gambling debt owed to dangerous Yakuza leaders.

It's not that I think commerce is bad, and that advertising is evil, I just think it's really annoying, especially those "kill the spider" ads, where I try to kill the spider, but then it clicks me into a window that says I can win 10 lbs of free lobster if I fill out a form, because then I fill out the form, and then it takes me to another form and I never get any lobster.

Wikipedia is something special. It is a saint-like ivory tower of information, supplying unbelievably accurate and reliable information to poor and impoverished third-world children who spend nights awake because they don't know who the lead singer of Seven Dust is, or the size of Zambia's air force, or whatever. What we do makes the world a better place, which makes Wikipedia something you are morally obligated to support.

So do it.

To avoid posting ads on our beautiful website, send us da money. Because Wikipedia was created by a community of hard-working individuals, they should also not only work hard on providing excellent information, but should also pay to do it. Specifically, they should pay me for the privilege of editing my website. This year, please consider making a donation, and if you don't want to, then don't be surprised if The Good Lord sends mudslides and locusts unto you.

Hm, here's my answer to that:

Dear Jimmy Wales,

Yo, Jimmy, I meant to write you sooner but I just been busy, I heard your girlfriend's pregnant, how far along is she? Yo, I really meant to donate some bread, but then I read some of the shit you said. Something on your website about needing cash, and I was about to send some shit, but thought that might be a bit rash. I thought to myself that this money would be better spent on me, and that I could still continue to surf Wikipedia for free. I know you'll forgive me because you're a nice guy and not a prick, because some people who demand donations can end up behaving like a stupid dick, in fact, I heard this one news story a couple weeks ago that just made me sick... this dude asks for mils from his fans and used the money to take a vacation to China and have sex with reporters from Fox News, and then he fell off a cliff, but left a message to his readers but it didn't really say who it was to... come to think of it...

his name was you.

damn.


The big story this year, of course, is that Falstad Wildhammer is alive. I know, it seemed that he was certainly dead, but then we all watched in awe, reminiscent of when Baby Jessica was lifted from the well, as we all clutched our living room sofas, eyes locked onto the liquid-crystal pixels of our gigantic flat-screen televisions as we remembered the fragility of life, but then were moved to tears at the miraculous miracle we witnessed unfolding before our cynically Thomas-the-disciple-like unbelieving eyes. Not only did Falstad Wildhammer survive the Day of The Dragon, but he went on to become the leader of Aerie Peak and Vanilla Wow through Wrath of The Lich King.

-turns to the other camera-

Yes, Mr. President, you characteristically made implausibly unrealistic promises that piqued the inner-optimist hiding in the metaphorical closet in our minds, which you subsequently failed to deliver like a lethargic Pizza-delivery minion, whose vehicular mode of transportation encountered a single thumb-tack of utter disruption, ergo, releasing the necessary and vital air pressure that allows the tires to fulfill their sacred duty of facilitating the internal-combustion-engine-powered carriage's mobility, thus disrupting the delivery of that age-old Italian dish that tantalizes our taste buds, and fills our dreams with wonder, as his once-reliable truck careened violently into an anti-serendipitously-placed ditch, and then off a cliff, and exploded into a mushroom cloud upon making the sickening impact with the bottom.

-turn to the other camera-

The other big news story, that everyone talked about was that gosh darn weather, eh.















Look at that... knocked that tree straight down. Pretty crazy. Me neighbors said they had a bunch of branches in their yard, and I believe it. Me cousin Patty heard the wind and says to me "Aye, it's a bit windy, eh?" and I says to 'er "Aye, it is for sure."

This event will no doubt be recorded as one of the most infamous events in human history.


In closing, 2010 changed us all, but it also changed a digit on a giant arbitrary measurement of time which may be off because the Gregorian Calendar was written by the uneducated peasants of the Dark Ages. They simply did not want to have their head cut off by their Baron, and they had a very weak understanding astrophysical mathematics. Anyhow, this year, we all looked deep inside of ourselves for understanding, and courage. We did things that we did not think we could do. We laughed, we cried, we were afraid, and we endured. We made mistakes and learned, and overcame obstacles. Most importantly, though, we did a lot of general human behavior, which I've briefly summarized here.

Goodnight, and good luck.

Natalie Portman Pregnant!

It's official: Actress Natalie Portman has announced she is pregnant. This is exciting news, because her offspring will no doubt bring balance to The Force.

If you thought that joke was bad, well, that's what you get for starring in a Star Wars movie(s). Just imagine the crap Harrison Ford has to put up with.

You can hear more of Natalie's thoughts on her new twin babies here: Link

Christmas is almost here!

Folks, I don't know aboot you, but I am starting to get excited over the possibility of Christmas coming in a few days. I was always get anxious that Christmas will be canceled, and all the presents will be thrown in the trash. If that happened, I would rage, and then probably go into a self-destructive spiral of alcoholism and crappy poetry.

I sent this Wish List to The North Pole, because it's completely plausible that an obese saint, who employs an army of pointy-eared midget slave labour, traverses the entire globe in the span of 8 hours in a in an old-fashioned sleigh that can somehow fly, through the power of love or some shit, to break into millions of homes and leave brightly-packaged boxes to children that he has stalked for years to survey their morality/family's income for gift-receiving eligibility.

My List:

- Roxxxy, the Sex Robot

- A really, really huge flashlight, so that I can paralyze legions of frogs.

- A battering ram for storming a medieval castle.

- POKEMON!

- Battle-Raper II
















- Communism

- A bowl of beef stew, but with no celery, because celery is horribad.

- Ass

- The Catue of Libpurrty

- Winona Ryder, preferably alive, so poke air holes in the box so she can breathe

- A red paperclip, so I can trade it for a house


I would've asked for a bootleg copy of the final Harry Potter movie, but I already traded my testicles for it in the streets of Hong Kong. When I saw it, I was kind of shocked. I didn't expect Hagrid to die.



Because I am a stoner, who enjoys smoking crystal meth, I watch a lot of cartoons. The cartoons around this time of year are annoying to me, because all of them are Christmas-themed, and they all revolve around the shaky premise that Santa Claus is in danger and needs to be saved. All the episodes go like this:

1. One of the characters in the show denies Santa exists. They refuse to get into the Christmas spirit and all of the other characters act all condescending because of this.

2. Santa is incapacitated by some villain, who is out to "destroy Christmas", because if he/she destroys Christmas, that somehow will advance their goals.

3. The gang of protagonists save Santa, but wait! One of the reindeer is sick! Whatever shall he do?

4. One of the show's characters volunteers to pull the sleigh, and using Christmas magic, is granted the power to fly and pull the sleigh, although it's unclear why Santa needs reindeer at all if he has this magic.

5. The character mentioned in plot point number 1 finally concedes that Santa is real, and is filled with "Christmas cheer". Christmas is saved. The end.

Repeat x1000000

However, children are stupid as a pile of rocks. In spite of insurmountable evidence, they believe their parents' malicious lies that a fat old bearded man brings them presents, because "you just have to believe". After all, Santa is magic, and lives primarily on cookies and milk when there's a plentiful supply of baby seals for him to club to death for food up there. Anyhoo, there is a glaring contradiction that no one can get around, and God help us all if our stupid kids ever figure this one out. Santa Claus' formal English-name is St. Nicholas, which can be confirmed in many popular Christmas Carols. To become a saint, YOU HAVE TO BE DEAD. So either Santa is a sacrilegious liar, or he's dead, which still leaves open the possibility that he's a zombie-elf.

Whatever the case is, as long as we're keeping the childrens believing that Santa is real, and that my black van is unsafe, we might as well bring back the traditional Christmas character, Black Pete. Black Pete is a demon that accompanies Santa Claus across the globe, and while good children get gifts, the bad children are stuffed into Black Pete's sack to be brought to Spain as a punishment. And you all know how fucked-up Spain is.

Happy Hanukkah.

Oprah: Lesbian?

I'd like to take some time out from my Christmas-family-time to once again focus on what's truly important this holiday season: celebrities. Specifically, celebrities who are lesbians, and specifically, Oprah Winfrey.

I first suspected Oprah was a lesbian since always. Since then, I have picked up many pieces of the puzzle to build my huge, hard, throbbing, rock-solid case that Oprah has been lezzing it up, but one vital piece remains precariously and tantalizingly out of my grasp: A Scooby-Doo Episode style confession where she blurts out the obvious truth that shocks only the most naive 14-year-old girls who could've sworn that Clay Aiken was straight as a geometrical line. This has given me cause to go to Lez Con 5.

Very recently, Oprah gave an interview to Barbara Walters, in which Oprah denied engaging in hot steamy lesbian loving with Beyonce or some shit. She also denied being a lesbian entirely. Case closed, right? Wrong. That's exactly what I would expect a Secret Lesbian to say. I know their language.

This, of course, would come as no surprise to no one, because Ellen of Ellen is also a talk-show host with huge ratings (whose ass is kissed to no end and to, more often than not, no avail) who also, incidentally, is a lesbian. Bonnie Hunt is probably also a lesbian. The problem is, though, being a role model for married, middle-aged housewives takes on a special kind of responsibility, because I just know they're all going to have second thoughts about taking advice from a woman who is a single lesbian woman. I can't imagine two housewives having this conversation, nor can you:

Betty: Oh dear, I want to go shopping for my husband, but he always hates the clothes I buy for him. What should I do?

Kathy: I know! Let's ask a our friend, who is single at age 40, and also a lesbian!

Betty: Great idea!

and so on.

However, the truth must be revealed, therefore, by the power vested in me by Oden, king of the Norse gods, I hereby demand that Oprah do a webcam interview with me and admit to the obvious truth, a request which I somehow find to be totally realistic and flawless.

What is this sorcery?

It's that time of year again: The Holidays, and yes, even the Jewish ones.

Ah, the most magical time of year, and of course, I mean black magic. Black Friday rolled around, and people were slaughtered in the aisles, and old people were trampled so quickly that they couldn't even hit their LifeAlert monitor buttons before being pulverized (I mean they literally were turned into dust) by the hordes of Mongol-like bargain hunters on a mission from God to acquire slightly less-expensive items for their angry ungrateful loved ones. After the dust (from the old people?) settled, Cyber Monday rolled around, and people cybered like crazy all over the place, even at public library computers; just sitting there with their undies around their ankles rubbing one out as you search for Upton Sinclair's The Jungle for your assignment.

Naturally, there is that annual totally necessary controversy of deciding whether or not we call this "Christmas time" or "The Holiday Season", because nostalgia-crazed misguided conservatives, who don't realize Christmas is a pagan festival of death celebrated by tree-spirit worshiping Visigoths, decide to show their "holiday cheer" and intent for spreading "peace on earth and goodwill towards men" by beefing with pussy-foot liberal pansies, who, in their zeal to manifest their false belief that they're "open-minded" schmucks who "embrace a diversity of cultures", freak the hell out when other people don't acknowledge Kwanzaa, a holiday invented by a black supremist.

Seriously, if didn't I care about people sensibilities, I wouldn't say "Merry Christmas" or anything to begin with, so if some weirdo wants to go "I don't celebrate Christmas" in an ultra-pissy voice, then so be it. I'm not going to be freaked out and traumatized so badly that I obsess in front of a chalkboard, writing down tons of alternative greetings so that I never have to feel bad in public again. Furthermore, I'm not going to be a dick and try to lobby City Hall to take down it's Christmas Tree and take a massive dump on everyone else's fun just because of it. I might as well go up to a kid and say "Yo, Christmas is canceled."

At least I always let children know that Santa is a lie.

There are only two years left before the End Of Days. Niburu is coming.