Thursday, August 23, 2007

"Okay, who poked the rhino?"


Hey, kids!  It's been far too long since I put out a real blog, but you know how it is, right?  Sure you do.  Now can you explain it to me?  Anyhoo, here's some things I've been  pondering lately.

First-Name-Nobodies:  I don't know who or why this trend started but I'd like it to cease and desist forthwith.  Every fucking pop culture teeny bopper asshole celebrity reality star goes by one name now.  There's Aly And AJ on MTV, there's Zack and Ashley from High School Musical, there's Cheyenne, Jo-Jo (not KC's Jojo), and Miley.  Who the fuck are these people?!  It's not really even a matter of them choosing to be singularly represented, although some do, but the fact that every fucking entertainment "news" show refers to them only by first name.  Likeeverybody knows who the fuck these shits are...  Take the lollipop out your asses and stop worshipping these underage twerps.  That's right, I said TWERPS!
Small footnote to this:  If you're only one person aka a solo act, you cannot have a band name.  You know who you are and you need to stop.

L.A. Scenes Of Irresponsibility:  The last piece kinda leads into this one nicely.  Let me explain.  The recent trend of Hollywood "starlets" gone wild has got me thinking about a massive elephant in the room that nobody in the "news" is addressing.  Lindsay, Paris, and Nicole (and countless others I'm sure followed by the next batch of fucktards) have been getting into clubs in L.A. underage.  Nobody is pointing the finger at these places that have been serving the recently legal Lohanator the cuckoo juice for years.  Forget the illegality of just allowing her into a licensed establishment to begin with. 
Now any asshole with an older asshole around can get booze underage, but the fact that these "bombshell" burnouts are going into very public places and coming out very publicly intoxicated (and sometimes missing undergarments) oughta arouse some suspicions of the police (at least) and real journalists.  Why it hasn't, I can guess. 
Mary Hart and her cohorts want to be conductors on this trainwreck.  They don't want to stand up and be crossing guards.  Nor should they have to.  But when it's SOOooo obvious that no one who should is, you've got to or you've got no soul left.  But to get back to my real point, these clubs and  restaurants should be fined, then delicensed, and then shut down.  People are gettin' fucked up, and not in the fun way anymore.

Nicole Richie's Baby:  Thank god it ain't mine.

VH1's The Pickup Artist:  Now this is what has always troubled me about women.  See the "expert" at picking up chicks on this show is godawful looking.  And worse, he's one of those douchebag types that wears more than one ring on each hand, and even worse, he often wears a furry hat.  Yes, a furry hat.  And chicks eat this guy up!  I'm sorry but I don't do any kind of "business," let alone talk to people in furry hats.  The man looks like a half-assed Tommy Lee (who I might add is someone else I don't get the appeal in).  I mean, if this is what you want, ladies, I'll just be over here till you come to your senses.  Well, who am I kidding?  I'm already "over here waiting."

Making The Band 9000:  Why do you beat this dead horse so?  Not one band that has been made by this franchise has become big.  Not one.  Zero success.  I hate American Idol but at least they've churned out some hits.  Give it the fuck up.  Take away Diddy's toys, please.

David Beckham:  Fuck that guy.
And lastly...

Long-Haired Football Players:  This is probably an old topic but it bears repeating.  If you let hair hang out of your helmet, then the other team has every right to pull at it ALL GAME LONG.  It's the same thing as jewelry.  If you wear it, someone pulls it, it breaks, tough shit.  Cut it down, dude.
So that's it, my babies.  Take care of yourselves, or not.  Also, buy my DVD.  Seriously, it's for the children.  And it's a great stocking stuffer!  I don't curse once on the commentaries.  Wait, maybe that's not a selling point.  Whateva. 

:-P   Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!

Friday, August 3, 2007

I Am Such A Rager


Hey, kids!  So I realize that I'm not much for doing the "Friday night things" that my peers and contemporaries do, but it still never ceases to dig at me that I can't/couldn't figure out anything to do tonight.
I mean, I watched the Padres game on TV and ate a DiGiorno, and that's pretty much it.  These activities did have their merits, mind you.  The pizza was excellent.  I'm really getting the hang of this frozen pizza thing.  And the game featured the historic matchup of Barry Bonds vs. Greg Maddux.  Sadly, no historic homerun, but an enjoyable watch none-the-less.
I can say I'm not that bad because I looked over and saw that my dad was watching C-SPAN.  So at least I've got that going for me...
Ooh!  Although, I will not be writing a Comic-Con blog this year because I don't have much to add to what you see in the pictures, I do have a few things I'd like to say, in the form of Big-Ups.
Big-Ups:
To my sister for letting me use her Petco parking pass during the 'Con.  Not only did I get to stroll in whenever I wanted, I did so knowing I would have a reserved parking space and said space would be free.  Thanks, Cur-Say!
To Rose and Alan for saving me a seat in Hall H for the Rogue Pictures panel.  2nd row, people!  That's like, as they say in NorCal, hella-close.  You guys are awesome!
And finally, to Amanda M., Cecelia, Stephen, Daniel C. and Anthony, Sean and Kathleen, and my former co-workers/friends for hanging out for the amount that you did.  It's much more fun to talk to you than to myself, and it looks a lot less creepy (I hope).
With that being said I'd like to send some No-Ups as well.
No-Ups:
To the few non-believer, crystal ball up their ass, Comic-Con staffers who attempted to close off rooms/halls prematurely.  This was my 9th Comic-Con and it's held at my former place of employment.  I think I can figure out how many people fit in a room (A Lot) and how many of the people in-line will be left out (None).  I totally missed the Indy 4 panel because of you fuckers.  Now, just stand at the door like a good boy and shut the fuck up.
To the chairs at the Convention Center.  You are not properly made for asses.  I said "Good day, Sir!"
Having said these things, I believe I'm done.
If'n you're still wantin' to see them-there Commie-Con photos (and some bideos) go here: http://s8.photobucket.com/albums/a30/psychodan13/
Goodnight, my babies.  :-P   Pbbbbbbbbbbbth!!!