HOT GIRL OF THE WEEK: JESSICA FUCKING WILLIAMS

 THIS POST IS WAY LONG OVERDUE BECAUSE IT JUST IS OKAY? OUR NEXT INSTALLMENT OF OUR EVER-MORE-DUBIOUSLY-NAMED SERIES, HOT GIRL OF DA WEEK FOCUSES ON JESSICA WILLIAMS. SHE IS THE BEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO "THE DAILY SHOW", INCLUDING JON STEWART, OR BEEF STEW, AS HE IS KNOWN. JESSICA WILLIAMS IS A COMEDIENNETTE WHO WAS SENT BY THE GODS OF COMEDY AND HER BODY AND MIND WERE CARVED OUT OF THE MOST VALUABLE METALS IN THE UNIVERSE AND ENDOWED WITH THE POWER TO KICK THE SHIT OUT OF EVERY SEGMENT THAT HAS EVER BEEN MADE BY THE DAILY SHOW, INCLUDING ONES IN THE PAST AND FUTURE, AND ONES THAT SHE'S NOT EVEN IN. OLIVIA MUNN IS NOTHING COMPARED TO HER. IN FACT, SAMANTHA BEE IS NOTHING COMPARED TO HER.

Okay, let's calm down here, and get a grip on things. If she ever read this, she'd probably be really creeped out so I need to make sure I add that this is complete a satirical post, and please don't be mad that I left 46 voicemails on your cellphone and keep leaving flowers on your porch even though you told me to stop or you'd call the police. I just think you, Jessica Williams, are amazing. You are funny. You are sexy. You are perfect. You are perfection manifested in the form of a Daily Show correspondent. Oh my God. Screw this, I might as well pour my heart out right here and now. Jessica, I am obsessed with you. I wish I could clone you so there could be more yous to love. I want to have at least 20 children with you after we make sweet love like 9 times a day. I want to buy you a giant Hershey's chocolate bar, and drive by your house like 2 times a day just for a chance of...

...uh...

I think I may have overdone it a little.

If I could give any advice to Jessica Williams, it would be: Damn gurl, u sexy.


 Unfortunately, I do not think me and Jessica would make a good couple, because I'm a Libra and she's some other zodiac thing probably. Also, I'm white. She's black. I know, it's the 2000s and all, but still, what if she doesn't like white guys!? What if she's gone black... that means she'll never go back! My penis won't be large enough, and she'll be like "Is it in yet?" and I'll be like "It's been in for the last 30 seconds." because it's just not of black-man caliber. LIFE IS SO CRUEL. LIFE... IS.... SO... CRUEL... WQ$(RETW#ERJFGIERJGFEIPOEWSDKFJS. OMG JESSICA WILLIAMS PLEASE MARRY ME, YOU ARE THE ONLY WOMAN FOR ME. HONESTLY, I'M NOT EVEN ATTRACTED TO WOMEN ANYMORE... I'M ATTRACTED TO YOU ONLY. SO, WHAT DO YOU SAY?

I am truly a visionary

I made a joke about Chick-Fil-A and cocks on August 1, a full one day before before Jon Stewart of The Daily Show lampooned Chick-Fil-A supporters for grabbing greasy buns and getting cocks in their mouths.

SUCK IT, STEWART!

Oh, he used the term "Cockblockers" on July 31st?

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

At least they pulled the plug on Olivia Munn and let her die. Jessica Williams is 5,000,000 times hotter and funnier, but the hotness factor is mostly objective, and I have a thing for black chicks.

It's almost Christmas 2!

Merry Christmas, and happy Hanukkah to the Jews. Also, if you're into Kwanzaa, then I say a strong "Black Power!" to you, brother! Anyhow, it's that time of year again where there is magic in the air; EVIL MAGIC. I'm talking about the sorcery known as the holidays.

Yes, this stupid, chaotic, hated, loved, absolutely insane ode to commercialism/Jesus is back with a vengeance once again to terrorize downtown Tokyo while breathing fire and eating buildings as masses of Japanese people run, horrified. And let me tell you - this has been a good one, and it's not even over yet.

Yeah, I got my shopping down. I bought my brother a golden motorcycle, my sister a pink unicorn with wings, my other brother an M240, my mom a pair of wool socks, and my step-sister a huge vibrating triple-penetration dildo to stuff in her vagina so she can find it in her heart to stop being a stupid whore. And holy shit, she wants to get a chihuahua? How much more Paris Hilton can you get? Well, anyhow, I also got Eminem a signed copy of Mariah Carey's Christmas Album. I'm sure he'll really appreciate it.

I bought Rosie O'Donnell a new career, because she broke the last one.

I bought a bullhorn for Bill O'Reilly so he can yell at his guests even louder!

I picked up a really cute pair of Hello Kitty socks for 50 Cent.

I bought a Rebecca Black album for Justin Bieber.

For Lady GaGa, I made a sphinx out of fish-flavored cake and put it inside of a spherical golden cage, with a pair of conjoined motorcycle-riding twins to continuously ride around inside the cage around the sphinx.

I picked out some really nice orange jumpsuits for Lindsay Lohan.

For the Jackass crew, I cloned Ryan Dunn and created a new human being in his likeness who I have named "Brian Dunn", and he is rapidly growing and will soon be able to participate in reckless shenanigans and work on vehicles.

For Hulk Hogan, I bought him a shirt. He already ripped it in half.

I paid for some comedy classes for Olivia Munn so that she can hopefully be funny someday.

I know a lot of people have some weird problem with Barack Obama being half-white, so I bought his mother 5,000 tanning sessions and a Namibian citizenship, so she can be dark-skinned and African, which technically, would make Obama fully black.

I bought Seth MacFarlane a closet, so he can come out of it.

I bought Seth Green a bunch of Star Wars shit, because he loves that shit.

I purchased Selena Gomez a year's worth of herpes-treatment creme to get rid of those disgusting puss-filled spores that Justin Bieber gave her.

I also gave Justin Bieber a kick in the face, because I know he's been asking for one for a long time.

I didn't know what to get for Iliza Shlesinger, so I just gave her a coupon for 1 session of sexual intercourse with me.

Okay, enough of that. Let's talk about Christmas. Christmas is a [black] magic time of year, when people act like total assholes, those people stand outside of stores ringing bells for hours for menial amounts of money, tons of pine trees are mercilessly slaughtered, and a morbidly obese elf-man with levitating cervidae fly to every single house within the span of 12 hours to deliver gifts to all the little good girls and boys, little suspecting that their families already bought them shit. All of Santa's toys are manufactured by elf slave-labor and Santa Claus is a slave-master, and he must be stopped.

Also, Jesus was born? Oh, yeah - Christmas haters love to clamor on about how Christmas used to be a pagan holiday, but can't actually put their finger on exactly what that holiday was. Was it the The Winter Festival of Death, where the pagans would cut themselves around a giant bonfire and sacrificing their young virgin females to the giant wild-boar-god, Poom-Baw? Or perhaps the Scandinavian Yule, which was not actually a precursor to Christmas, and was eventually replaced with Christmas by King Haakon I of Sveden, who ruled with an iron fist, and drank the blood of his enemies from a goblet carved out of granite.

So yeah, who knows. All this "separation of church and state vs this nation is christian" rubbish just needs to be slam-dunked into the nearest trash bin. Just shut up and enjoy the goddamn holiday already!

A Million Little Pieces

Hello again, stranger.

I know I haven't blogging on this thing in... ages...

Days, in fact. I went through a journey of self-discovery and scraping my life back together from the ashes of my burnt-down sense of purpose. When Eva and Tony got divorced, I was like "Oh, that situation is certainly quite daft." and then immediately injected myself with the maximum amount of heroin possible without dying. I instantly became a drug addict and went down a spiral of self-destruction and cynicism that was unmatched in all of human history. Then I realized something that saved my life:






















Sharkbears are real.

So here I am blogging again, even after I swore I'd never blog about celebrities again to my dying Grandma, whose last words were "Obsessing over celebrities... it's not worth it."

WELL SORRY GRANDMA, but I'm back in business. I decided that life is short; almost midget-like, and I needed to do the things that make the people happy, because the polls show that people love celebrities, no matter what they're indulging themselves in. Think about it. I would eat a box of fish sticks if they had a picture of Katherine Heigl on them, and I hate fish sticks. They're like, random white mush fried in batter, leaving me to ask how anyone could possibly want to eat that stuff, but that's another post for another time.

As you probably don't know or care about, I am writing a 50,000-word novel for the month of November, and I finally finished the first chapter, which I hereby present to you now. Behold, my magnum opus:

Hi, my name is Bob. I like bacon. The other day I was at my friend's house, and he was all, like, "Hey Bob, want to go down to the coffee shop and see if there's any pretty girls there?" and I was like "Nah" so we didn't.

That night, I had a dream that I was eating a frog, but the frog was like, filled with cheddar cheese. It was so weird. When I woke up, I fixed a cup of coffee and turned on the morning news. It was the same old stuff they always showed. You know, morning traffic copter reports and whatnot. I went outside to check the mailbox. It was empty, of course. Then I went to work. Work was okay, but eh. When I got home, I watched the Daily Show, and there was a really unfunny Olivia Munn sketch, but it was okay, because she was improving in her delivery and the bits being written for her were also improving, so I wasn't going to be very harsh this time in the online comments, because I like to talk online to people the way I do in real life because I feel that sometimes people online are too rude and they certainly wouldn't be that rude in real life where, you know, I could just like, punch them in the face with my hand.

I went to bed and had a dream that I was nude on a stage, but I was okay with it because that was a guitar covering my junk. It made me think back to the other day while I was at the airport, and I decided to try and being a total dickwad and get the airport security people in trouble just to prove a point, and I said to them "If you touch my junk, I'm going to have you arrested", which just made me look like a total douchebag, but that's okay, because I did it to almost prove a point but not quite. When I woke up, I put on my slippers, and put on a bathrobe, and made some coffee. Then I turned on the television set and watched the local news, and it was the usual stuff, you know, traffic copter reports and whatnot. Then I checked my mailbox. Bills, bills, bills. I went to work as usual, and it was okay I guess. I just got there and was like "whatever". When I got home, I watched the Daily Show, and there was an Olivia Munn sketch which wasn't quite as bad as the night before. It seemed like the writers were really figuring out where she fit into the comedy of the show, and she seemed to be catching her stride, so to be fair, I only left a comment online that said "olivia sux i hate her fire her asap", which was significantly less rude than the comments I had left before.

I went to bed and had a dream I was made of ice cream. Then I woke up and fell into a portal that transported me to an alternate gothic universe where everything was dark and gothic, and everyone dressed in all black and wore make-up to appear paler. It was okay I guess. I wasn't really into being goth, but I was like "Eh, this is fine." and didn't really feel anything about one way or another. I didn't have to go to work that day because there is no work in goth-universe, just Marilyn Manson concerts to go to, but I wasn't really into his music since I listened to mostly country music. So I went to bed that night in a black coffin that was on a black slab that was surrounded by fire. It was alright I guess. Not very much room in there, but it was fine.

The end.

When writing this chapter, I really looked to Aldous Huxley's sense of surrealism in the writing as a source of inspiration, and think my writing could inspire future generations for ages to come, because it's just that good.

"Normal" Picture Of Lady GaGa; I Hate Myspace

This is Lady GaGa before The Fame overtook her. They say that fame changes people, and I guess they mean that literally.



I know I just posted a bunch of GaGa pics, but I'm not obsessed. Really. I mean, I know, last night I had a dream where Alison Angel and I were making out in the middle of the highway, and I was like "Oh, Stefani..." and she was all, like "Stefani!? You cad!" and slapped me with a white glove and then stormed off. Suddenly, I saw Lady GaGa standing there with her meat dress on, and we started getting romantic and I started eating the meat off of her. Then I woke up screaming and sweating heavily, and realized it was just a dream and was all "Oh, phew. Close one."

But then I made the biggest mistake of my life: I went back to sleep. I had another dream where I was watching a really super unfunny Olivia Munn segment on The Daily Show, when out of the blue, Lady GaGa came out of nowhere and kicks Olivia Munn into a giant creme pie and then grabs a mic and starts singing "Just Dance" and all these robots were dancing and I started eating the robots because I realized they were made out of meat. Then I woke up screaming and sweating heavily. My heart was racing. I got out of bed to splash some cold water on my face. Then I looked up at the mirror of my bathroom, and suddenly, I saw the reflection of Lady GaGa standing behind me. I woke up again, from that dream-within-a-dream scenario and was awake for reals this time.

So, today, I listened to nothing but Death Metal and Gangster Rap, so that I would be able to sleep without having those haunting images in my mind.

I also logged onto Myspace today, and of course, once again, they completely changed the user interface and site layout for no reason. To my knowledge, killing the brand-name familiarity of your website is probably is not going to increase the number of users, although, probably nothing is going bring Myspace back, not even Justin Timberlake. It's mostly a matter of one social network passing the torch onto the next one, which has happened before, and probably will happen again when someone does the obvious and invents a site like Facebook, but just far less annoying.

Speaking of Facebook, my mom is on Facebook, and she went through my "Likes", and didn't like that I liked Lady GaGa. Sure, Eminem is okay, but Lady GaGa is unacceptable. Anyhow, that's where my Lady GaGa obsession began, because in order to rebel against my parents, I have to listen to lots and lots of Lady GaGa songs.

Also, as a bonus picture... In my last post, I mentioned that there is a mouse with a human ear on it's back. Now mind you, this is real. I wanted to post a picture of it, but the pictures were kinda nazzzty, so I found a very sexy picture of the mouse-with-human-ear, being held by a naked woman, so enjoy:

Jon Stewart's Rally Was Insane

Look at this.

Today, Jon Stewart, host of Comedy Central's The Daily Show, and chronic Olivia-Munn-Hirer, held The Rally To Restore Sanity, a 1-day event in Washington D.C. where thousands would gather to show how sane they are.

As an insane person, I am deeply offended and disturbed by this rally's message and the implications of the said rallying. As an official Celebrity Gossip Person, it is my duty to obsess over the insaneness of Hollywood, and on rare occasions, Bollywood. When Britney Spears shaved her hair off, I was there. When David Hasselhoff attempted to eat that hamburger while drunk on camera, I watched in the bushes. When Mel Gibson said Jews caused all the wars, I was watching them cause those wars. I thrive, live and breathe insanity, and it is my oxygen. Not the channel. As an official mamarazzi (A more gentle, caring version of the paparazzi), I need America to be as crazy as possible, not just for myself, but also for myself.

However, hyperbolically speaking, the rally was nuts. It had everything I desire in a rally: crazy signs that are contradictory to the point of the rally, Sheryl Crow's fake teeth, Ozzy Osbourne, and Stephen Colbert melting into a pool of delicious butter. I personally feel like it was a success in that it restored our sense that sanity was possible, which you know will put everyone into a crazed frenzy trying to get it. In fact, I was reading some of the news articles to get a sense of how people felt about the rally, and of course, I will just let their random comments do the talking:

Person 1: all whiteskinned liberals are dirty racists who worship klansman robert byrd. i still have not heard them repudiate nancy pelosi for her white supremacist actions.

Person 2:

rujokingme ..... perfect example of dimwitted conservative. Not only can they not use proper grammar, they use contradicting statements for their arguments. Like a nat at a barbeque..... just buggin the fu#k outta ya.....

BAD week for Blogging

It was a horrible week for bloggers and blogging everywhere, because my computer monitor shorted out for no reason without any warning at the crack of dawn. It now lies in ruins, as seen here:

















So, in other words, no juicy celebz gossipings, no hot girl of the week, no joy and peace to the world. During this difficult time, I spent the nights lying wide awake, wondering how the hell my life had spiraled into such a non-blogging state. During the days, I kept myself mildly entertained by playing UFC: Undisputed while drinking soy milk, blasting Lady GaGa music and cursing the sky.

So, had I been able to blog, I would've blown the roof off of some hot Lauren Conrad gossip that no one knows about, not even that shining golden bastion of pure knowledge, TMZ. It was so juicy that if this gossip were in the form of an orange, and you bit into it, juice would go flying all over your face. Juice would fly into your dog's face, and all over a baby, and all over the walls, and just generally everywhere. But it's too late. It was time-sensitive material, so I guess I can't do that.

I was also going to do a scathing hit-job story on Olivia Munn, but I decided not to, because I am very very afraid of the powers that back her. They could snap me over their knee like a really long graham cracker with ease.

The hot girl of the week was going to be... I don't know... Jessica Alba or something. I don't know nor care, because I wasn't able to do it, and this makes me want put on some Bullet For My Valentine and just start the cutting. Maybe I would've made it Olivia Munn, just to make up for all the nasty things I almost said about her, but didn't, so it doesn't count, right?

Okay, peace, nerds.