Category Archives: Celebrity

Wilford Brimley: Talking Points

Good morning Assholes, my name is Wilford Brimley and I’d like to take a minute to talk to those of you out there fiddle-diddling around, wasting your life on these weblogs. I know this is gonna require some reading on your part which is damn near impossible for a shit stain such as yourself but hear me out… I want to discuss some things that’ll help you live a better life. As you know, you logger-headed kids are the reason this country is going to hell in a handbasket and we adults aren’t gonna stand for it any longer! There’s gonna be some changes around here!

First order of business, I want you kids to clean up that crack den you call a bedroom! Throw out all your dildos, pocket pussies and penis pumps and pick up a good book! Educate yourselves! Albert Einstein didn’t sit around lubing up his genitals all goddamn day, and if he did, it was probably to reward himself for discovering the foundations of our physical reality dammit! I don’t see you poo-packers out there testing quantum theory! You just spend your days listening to music that ties my colon in knots! Let’s cut a deal, you find out how to harness the power of nuclear fusion, then you can stick those beads up your ass til the cows come home! Deal?

Next, I want you kids to pull out all those ridiculous facial piercings and earlobe stretcher things! If the good Lord intended you to look like a circus sideshow you woulda been born with a wine cork stuck through your goddamn earlobes! Besides, nobody’s gonna hire some surly clack-dish with metal sticking out of his face, unless you wanna be hosing down elephant shit from a train car for the rest of your life! Damn carnies. Our American brothers and sisters died to protect your freedoms and here you are sticking horseshoe rasps through your goddamn septum!

Lastly, start a savings account. Put a few dollars away everyday instead of spending your every last dime on candy and soda and lube. What happens when it comes time for you to move out of mommy and daddy’s house into the real world? You’ll end up having to spend your evenings down at the State Welcome Center, fondling the humid testicles of some trucker for pennies on the dollar! Who knows, maybe he’ll grow fond of your facial piercings and then you two assholes can go live happily ever after with an extended stay program at Motel 6! Do what you want! You seem to have all the goddamn answers! 

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Kanye West Turns South

Today Kanye West released his latest attempt at music with an album entitled Yeezus. :/

In other related news, I was about three seconds away from instagramming a titanic-sized turd I had taken earlier today but I opted not to because, you see… just because some things are created doesn’t mean they should be shared with others, no matter how big a pile of shit it is. And thus begins my album review of Kanye West’s Yeezus.

First off let’s explain the title for those readers older than 45. Kanye named it Yeezus because Yeezus rhymes with Jesus (whom he often compares himself to, though I highly doubt Kim Kardashian would ever marry a carpenter) Then take the last two letters of his first name (YE) and add a Z in there to make it all hip-hoppy because for some reason rappers don’t like the letter S. And voila, a ridiculous title sure to attract kids that have to keep one hand on their pants to keep them from falling.

The opening track On Site was produced by Daft Punk and rightly sounds like it was produced by throwing baked potatoes at the drums and keyboard for 2 minutes. Not the strongest start for an album but my curiosity was piqued.

Next, I thought the track Black Skinhead would surely tear the roof off by the sound of the title, however the opening lyrics left me bewildered and reaching for a wall: “For my theme song, got my leather black jeans on” ...I’m starting to regret wasting the 3 minutes it took to illegally download the album.

The following track, I Am A God is sure to raise a few eyebrows but mine were already raised by the “black leather jeans” lyric from the last song… can jeans even be leather? I thought denim was a requirement for pants to be considered jeans? West’s lyrics are so provocative and deep on so many levels, they really make you think… and for that I will pardon him if he wishes to wear leather from the waist down.

Another attempt to shock the listener, New Slaves leaves me thinking he must have left the studio unlocked for some stray animals to wander in and walk all over the gear, accidently recording this 5 minute mess. But the liner notes say nothing about strays. Hmm?

Next, Hold My Liquor leaves much to be desired in the hip-hop lyric and beats department, so far I’ve managed to make better beats vacuuming up pet hair and Cheerios.

There are five other “songs” on the album and they’re pretty much par for the course. If you ever decide to throw pots and pans into a wood chipper in an attempt to create music, don’t be surprised if you get sued for copyright infringement by Kanye West’s label.

Yeezus ★☆☆☆☆ (couldn’t figure out the keyboard shortcut for a half star, so he gets one whole one.)

DMX On A Horse!

Sorry for being absent over the past couple of weeks. I’ve been really busy getting drunk and crashing my bicycle into newspaper kiosks around the city after losing my job. No biggie though, one door closes on your penis another door opens.

But things are finally starting to look up, I even found a picture of DMX on a horse today, isn’t that great!?

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That’s how Ruff Ryders roll!

 

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Rapper Gucci Mane Branches Out

The month of April just wouldn’t be complete without one more journal entry on gangsta rapper extraordinaire, Gucci Mane.

For those of you not familiar with Gucci Mane, he raps about shooting his rivals, consuming codeine-infused lemon flavored beverages and sitting reclined in shiny vehicles the general public can’t afford. I’m sure he also has a hand in shaping U.S. foreign policy and works closely with the American Heart Association as well.

Contrary to popular demand, Gucci Mane was not born with his plentitude of extraordinary talents, but rather rose through the ranks of obscurity to become the worlds greatest musician to ever have an ice cream cone tattooed on his face.

Well, after many long nights of research and about $60 worth of 5 Hour Energy supplements, I was finally able to complete the Mane family tree for those interested in his genealogy and ascent to music super stardom.

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For more Gucci goodness be sure to check out:

Gucci Mane Explain’s Einstein’s Theory of Relativity

Sippin’ Amaretto

Gucci Mane Explains Einstein’s Theory of Relativity

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Gucci, what can you tell us about Einstein’s theory of relativity?

What? Theory who?

Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, can you explain what that is?

Oh, Einstein! I thought you said, Feinstein. I was like she been a California state senator since ’92, what she doing messin’ with space time continuums!?

Ha ha, Yea so basically Einstein discovered that massive objects cause a distortion in space-time. Imagine a big ol’ round booty sittin on a trampoline. The booty would press down the fabric, causing it to curve. Now if I come along n’ throw some money n’ diamonds at that ass, they’d spiral inward toward the booty, much the same way the gravity of the moon be pulling at Earth, ya know what I’m sayin?

Yes I am aware of what you are saying. Can you expound upon that premise?

Look, you wanna holler about a pound we can do that off the premises, I don’t move bricks for nobody unless we crew. You know what I’m sayin?

Uh… Yes I understand. Can you explain Einstein’s theory in greater detail?

Na, dawg we squashed that beef, that’s just how we do.

That is just how who do?

Ain’t nobody said nothin’ bout no voodoo nigga!

No, to whom were you referring when you said “that’s just how we do?”

Yo dawg, for reals you brought me here to talk theoretical physics, instead you be playin these mind games talkin bout voodoo n’ shit, I’m out!

 

Kidnapping Prince

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Oh shut-up! The handcuffs’ll come off when you start cooperating and stop whimpering like a wet poodle! Now get against the wall and don’t say another damn word!

Here’s a moist towelette, wipe off that charcoal smudge you call a mustache. Yea bullshit it’s real, wipe it off! I said get against the wall! Quit moving around all weird and herky-jerky, this is no time for spin moves and dancing, THIS IS SERIOUS!

Now before I start breaking every bone in your effeminate, monkey-like body I’m… QUIT POINTING AT ME AND THRUSTING YOUR HIPS AROUND LIKE THAT! Don’t you understand I’m about to hurt you!? THIS IS A KIDNAPPING DAMMIT!

My whole life I’ve been plagued by your feigned mystique, your rapidly changing name and slightly bothersome cranial shape. Your ever-morphing wispy facial hair designs makes a grown man want to sling poo at the walls!

What’s that? You think I have pretty eyes? Well thank you. Maybe we can loosen those restraints a little… wait a minute I’m not falling for your slimy charm monkey boy!

Get back against the wall and quit trying to touch my face!

Minnie Driver!?

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I was sitting in the doctor’s office today. Playing on the TV overhead was some facial cream infomercial starring Minnie Driver. Holy crap and a half, Minnie Driver!? What casting director fell off the bar stool and bumped his head!? If Minnie Driver is still able to land acting roles I’m gonna get my elbow an agent.

What else was she in? I only know her as the “Jar-Jar Binks” of Good Will Hunting. In spite of her scene-stealing 10-gallon head, that movie was awesome. Robin Williams, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon… and Minnie Driver: the audience’s reason to grab a snack or go take a poop during those abysmal sob scenes.