BORING SHIT

As you may not know, November is National Novel Writing Month, and Nanorimo, as it is known, challenges writers to write their really bad novels all in one month. Once you've done it, you "win"!

Now, as an avid writer of words, I feel like I have an epic novel inside of me full of intrigue, prose, steamy smut scenes, long descriptions of what one could describe as 'action scenes', words, and stuff. Even though November is almost 1/3 over, I am going to write a full-blown novel with 50,000 words. Or more. Probably not, though.

Now, you might be thinking "How are you going to pull that off? That's a lot of words." and my answer is simple. I am going to type really, really fast, and fill some of the chapters with random gibberish as padding, because remember, this arbitrary imaginary challenge posed by some unknown weirdos, who was probably trollin', is most about the quantity of novels it produces, so we're going for sheer volume here.

Now, keep in mind that I haven't even thought about a concept for a book, but I believe that I'm just going to sit down and just start banging out chapters, because that just makes sense.


Oh, also, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Lindsay Lohan.

PZ!

Random Lady GaGa pics

Ladies, Gentlemen and Monsters who cannot get enough Stefani Germanotta in their daily lives, I hereby present a post which proves that I have 15 minutes and Google Image Search: A montage to the new Queen of Pop, Lady GaGa. To be honest, in terms of Pop Queens, I'm just glad they didn't pick a 14-year-old girl this time, however, I am glad they picked an eccentric discotheque enthusiast whose videos look like something out of a bizarre sexy nightmare where we are lost in some sort of hazy drug-fueled masquerade orgy/dystopian version of gay Heaven. I really am. This isn't sarcasm, because like a positively charged electron to a negatively charged electron, I am pulled towards weird stuff like a Law of Physics. So needless to say, there are some GaGa songs on my iPod, much to the dismay of pseudo-intellectuals who listen to sucky indie bands, which are like sucky indie- movies, but unlike their counter-parts in the cinema medium, indie-bands don't need Sundance Hippy Festival to proliferate their... wait one damn minute, I don't need to explain myself to anyone, so just enjoy the damn pictures:

v

Remember, remember the 5th of November
The gunpowder treason and plot,
I know of no reason
Why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

Some Hot Hot Election Action

Time to put away the stale Halloween candy, because it's blogging time.





















Ladies and Gentlemen, recently, in boring politics news, America held it's mid-term elections, which were filled with a galore of stuffy upper-class drama. I know, Randy Quaid is going to court and is trying to flee to Canada, Charlie Sheen killed a hooker, and Snooki's top got half ripped-off in a drunken club fight, but I believe being a good journalist involves covering boring stories, especially political ones.

First of all: America, you did it. You stood up with one voice, and said "No, we can't." and I applaud that sort of random defiance. Tea-Partiers, you did it. Your Hitler-mustachioed posters have turned the tide of Obamostalinism sending Grandma to the death factories to be ground into hamburger just because she's a non-productive person who complains whenever I change the channel, but then criticizes everything about the show we're watching while smoking her damn cigarette.

In seriousness, though, our nation was in a fairly bad state before, but now America is going to get what it wants: a tax cut for the top 1% of the population, who already dodge taxes 24/7 by hiding all their money in secret Swiss accounts. If that doesn't bring the 90s back, I don't know what will.


First, in Christine O'Donnell's race, the Tea Party was hoping to snipe a predominantly Communist state of Delaware, however, Christine O'Donnell (Who is most certainly not a witch), was massacred by Chris Coons, who lives in a cage in Harry Reid's basement. Harry Reid keeps him alive by throwing him large amounts of raw meat. Despite a rallying wave of Tea Partying, O'Donnell could not secure the grape state of Delaware, and had to deliver what had to be the weirdest concession speech I've ever heard, which started off by her announcing "We have won!", and then reading a list of demands for Chris Coons to follow.




In Harry Reid news, the embattled Senate Majority Leader was expected to be raped by Sharrron Angle, the Tea Party favorite in Nevada. Reid, significantly down in the polls, largely due to the very high unemployment in his state, and unable to rally his constituency by way of sheer candor and charisma (as he has neither), employed an age-old political strategy: Just sitting there doing nothing while his opponent says stuff that's just nuts. Indeed, Sharron Angle's apparent list of off-color comments led voters to believe that she'd probably be worse than the leadership of the man who oversaw the worst unemployment in the state's history. When informed of her apparent loss for the Nevada senatoral race, Sharron Angle said "Zip zap zoop!" and flew off to the land of orange zebras.







One of the most high-profile Governator races was for the executive position in Colifornia. This unexciting horse race took place between the perpetually-running-for-governor Jerry Brown, and Meg Whitman, a CEO of e-Bay, a web-based auction where foreigners trick Americans into sending them money, then deleting their e-bay accounts without sending anything. Whitman failed to secure this election, despite having spent an approximate 1,000,000,000,000 dollars on her campaign. In a rage, she withdrew to her Lombardy estate, where she is currently brooding how unfair life is.





Speaking of voteration in Governor races, Emperor Palpatine's evil twin, Carl Paladino, while not a Tea-Party darling, appeared to have a remote chance of winning New Yawk's gubernatorial race. It all began with him sending donkey-show porn to his staff members, which convinced many New Yorkers that he might be cool enough to consider voting for. However, he was still behind in the polls, and suddenly, the plot thickened when Fred Dicker of The New Yorker and Carl Paladino had a Dragonball Z style confrontation where they just powered up for like 2 episodes while talking a ton of trash. Paladino was invited onto Fox News, where he explained that the confrontation took place because the media was out to get him, because the media backed the establishment, which made sense on paper until you realize that The New Yorker and Fox News are both owned by Rupert Murdoch, who supports Republicans like Paladino! Secret illuminati plot!

P.S. - Paladino lost lol



Like Harry Reid, Speaker O' The House, Nancy Pelosi was facing an uphill battle to be re-elected, but uh, she won, so no biggie. However, due the utter Republican pwnage in the House of Representatives, Democrats are now a minority, so Pelosi's position as Speaker Of The House is now in question, as the party with a majority of seats gets to do the speaking for The House. It is not yet known if she will step down as Speaker Of The House, or hole up in a cabin with a shotgun in a stand-off with cops in a last-gasp attempt to hold onto the position. It is speculated that if such a scenario should unfold, she will probably be sniped by Lon Horiuchi. The authorities would then storm the cabin and retrieve the Speaker Of The House position, and hand it to John Boehner (Whose last name is pronounced 'Boner', which is appropriate, because he has one right now, out of sheer excitement) although it is highly unlikely that this will happen.




I know there were a lot more races, like Rand Paul's important pick up of Kentucky, and Joe Manchin's wtf-win in West Virginia, but it's late, and the candy buzz is starting to wear off. I would like to congratulate The Republicans on their uberpwnage, and I know all the Conservatives have really intense boners right now. If anything, this election signifies that the agenda of President Obama sounds really muslimy to a lot of people, and it really pisses them off. This election just goes to show that if you regulate corporations, they will spend a ton of money to make you look like a douchebag to the American people, and indeed they did, so once again, Democracy prevails.

So take that, Castro.

Halloween: The Sluttiest Time Of Year

"I hear someone is has been dirty."



Today, once again, is All Hallow's Day, on which the Catholic Church commemorates those who have received beatific vision in Heaven by passing out candy to children dressing up as superheroes, clowns, cowboys, and various fictional characters. Occasionally, the children dress as factual characters, such as Flavor Flav, but that's quite rare that you find children and parents who collaborate to get that creative, WHICH IS WHY I HATE MY PARENTS UGH!

It's also a day for the older crowd to dress up, and by older, I don't mean you, Grandma. Get over yourself Grandma. I'm not always talking about you. I'm talking about girls and boys who are older than 12, but more specifically, girls and boys who are older than 18, but even more specifically, just the girls who are older than 18, but younger than 30.

The girls tend to go as one of the following:

- French Maid

- Sailor Scout

- Naughty Kitty

- Naughty Librarian

- Sexy Cactus Girl

- Bikini Girl With Machine Gun

- Sex Robot


I appreciate all of these. I, of course, would be more than happy to give these girls who put such thought into their costume lots and lots of candy, and I don't necessarily mean a sick 50-Centesque metaphor, but I can mean that if they want it to pertain to that meaning, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN lololololololololololololol. Now, I also understand that some of the costumes may confuse you if you've never heard of them before, such as "Sexy Cactus Girl". Let me tell you, you do not want to fondle a girl in that costume.

"Sex Robot" isn't necessarily a costume, but it's a more economical approach to Halloween dress-up, in which the person becomes their own costume. Girls who go as "sex robot" just make a lot of sudden, mechanical jerky motions and go "Beep beep boop, I am a robot. How may I please you?" in a monotone voice, reminiscent of the slow lumbering aluminum-foil bots of 50s sci-fi cinema.

Whatever you may go as, remember, don't get raped!

Happy Halloween.

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.....

In Lindsay Lohan news...

Guess what, geeks? Lindsay Lohan will not be going to prison, where she would have to have endure the cuddling of her muscular lesbian cellmate, "Pudding". Rather, she will have to be checked back into rehab. Upon hearing this news, Lindsay was indignant, and kinda just hoped the court would, like, let just live her life, like damn. However, the iron fist of justice hit Lindsay with yet another stint in the rehabs, and I'm 90% certain that they will work this time.

Here's an important fact to remember, though: It costs a lot of money to keep someone in prison. Rehab, however, is dirt cheap, because all you need to do is rent a room in a church basement for a day, set up some steal folding chairs and hold a clipboard, with which you, as the psychological professional working for the government, will pretend to take notes, but will actually be drawing a shark jumping out of the water and eating a deer. You should also keep in mind that Lindsay is rich and WHITE. OH YEAH I WENT THERE.

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.

Hot Girl of The Week: Iliza Shlesinger

I know, I know. I didn't even post anything last week, but I must continue this series, or the world will melt into a pool of delicious butter, which will be used by Little Black Sambo to eat 5,932 pancakes.

This week's addition introduces Last Comic Standing champion and Comedy Central Presents alumni Iliza Shlesinger, whose name I always I misspell before hitting the delete key several times to correct myself. It's pretty bad, because I hate when people misspell my last name, which is also a doozy to those who have difficultly with last names more difficult than "Smith". But I digress (whatever that means).




















She is one of my favorite comedians, mostly because of her looks, which are top-notch. As far as other facts about her go, she's blonde... I don't know if it's natural or if she's just fakin' it, and she appears to be between 18-39 years old. I'm 90% sure she's an American citizen and was not born in Kenya, and is probably not part of a secret illuminati plot, but I have been wrong before. I had this co-worker at Auntie Anne's, a soft-pretzel stand in the mall, and he just seemed like this ordinary guy who couldn't make change very well, but it turns out he was part of a secret illuminati plot. Whodathunkit.

If I could give Iliza any advice, it would be: You can't do lunges as well as me.

I don't think Iliza and I would be compatible as a couple because, during her act, she did these super-deep lunges. Normally, you wouldn't think that'd be issue, except that I also do super-deep lunges, and I think we'd be competing to see who can do the deepest lunges, and it'd get really out of hand and we'd fight all the time. Just last night, I was doing these insane lunges and was like "These are way deeper than Iliza's." but in the back of my mind, I was like wondering how deep Iliza's lunges had gotten since the Comedy Central show and I knew I had to train harder. God, where does one get the nerve to work their freakish athleticism into their act?

The Fame Monster Has Me

Dearest Diary,

I'm sorry I haven't written on you in awhile, and I know how turned on you get from the feeling of cold ink pouring out all over your pages, getting you all dirty. I know all I wrote this week was the letter "y", which is probably not sufficient for an official celebz gossip blog, covering the glamorous and amorous lifestyles of the hottest starz, like Lauren Hill and Gilbert Gottfried. However, I've been very depressed, and as a result, I put on some black eye-liner, covered one eye with black bangs and wore tight jeans while cutting my wrists while listening to Hawthorne Heights. It was very very sad, but I feel a little bit better now after binging on brownies and listening to lots of death metal. I also did some kickboxing to let my emotions out, because there's no better way to deal with anger than to train your brain to start punching when it's upset.

Then, I had a thought: if fish cried, would anyone know?

So I'm doing this for you, fish, because I know that you're potentially crying every day, just no one gets to see it because you're surrounded by water.