Thursday, June 26, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Man, A Plan, A Canal , A Hat- Panama!
It's been a hectic week. Went to Vegas for a few days, which is always fun - it's the worst aspects of American culture all in one convenient location. The stink of avarice, lust and desperation wafts through the casinos' air conditioning systems, and everybody you encounter looks like they're either auditioning for The Hills or Wife Swap. What's not to love?
On the home front, I've got to contend daily with my female (and gay male) co-workers hitting on me for 8 hours at a time, due to my animal magnetism (I spray on monkey pheromones every morning) and absolutely stunning ass. In fact, a certain co-worker who shall remain nameless (Mia) cannot stop staring at it, even when she's driving a forklift, and is so obsessed she's always making Freudian slips like "So my grandfather just died and I was wondering if you could cover for me on Wednesday so I can attend YOUR ASS IS MAGNIFICENT". I swear, man: women - can you think of something besides sex at least every couple minutes or so? You're never going to get equal treatment in the workplace until you learn to start acting professional (and "stripper" and "call girl" are not the professions I'm talking about here, for the record). I would offer to give a seminar on how to conduct yourself in a corporate environment if I didn't know my offer would be answered by every single woman in the office with "Yeah, I'll attend your seminar...as long as it's in my pants!". So childish. We've got a long way to go, my sisters.
Also, a friend of mine had a family emergency, so I'm feeding his cat after work, which is no big deal, except this particular cat, much like Jeremy Piven, has a propensity for vomiting cat food and hairballs all over every inch of carpeted space in the apartment (never on the hardwood floors, for some reason) (that reason being that cats are straight from the devil). So I've taken to calling it Vomiting Cat, or V.C. for short, and let me tell you something: this V.C. is worse than the V.C. I had to fight back in 'Nam (V.C. Andrews, of course I mean). But then, nothing's as easy as it used to be, is it? Anyway, do any of you care about my pain? No, you vultures are only interested in picking over the carcasses of these poor, sweet People letter writers. Well, here you go, you soulless bastards (by the way, this is the second time since I've been doing this that Entertainment Weekly didn't have a letters page in their current issue, ostensibly because it's a Special Issue, I guess. But really, aren't all their issues special? Oh, I'm using "special" in the sense of "retarded" here, in case you just fell off a fucking turnip boat or something):
People, June 30, 2008
I was saddened to hear about Shania Twain and her husband, Robert "Mutt" Lange, splitting up. I can't believe he allegedly left a stunning woman like Shania for the matronly-looking lady who was supposed to be one of his wife's best friends. Shania's heart will eventually heal. In the long run, she's lucky to be rid of him. He's not a mutt, he's a hound dog.
Janice Pielert
Stamford, Conn.
"Just one picture - I'm late for my gig as chair of
a conference on anthropogenic global warming. Do my nipples
project that necessary blend of commitment tempered by compassion?"
Janice,
Wait - you're complaining that he left her for an older, plainer looking woman? I thought this was exactly what Nora Ephron and all those horrible Diane Keaton movies wanted to happen. Jeez, you get pissed if he leaves her for some young bimbo, you get pissed when he leaves her for some old bag - what would make you happy, if he started dating a friggin' turtle? Make up your feeble mind, for God's sake.
She is lucky to be rid of him, I'll grant you - did you know he produced Foreigner? And Def Leppard? And Bryan Adams? Maybe now that he's out of the picture, her music will finally stop sucking the stank out of my sheeyot. Somehow I doubt it, though.
Them young girls, they do get weary,
John
Shania is a brave and independent woman. I'm sure she will recover from this heartbreak and be better than ever. I can't wait to hear new music from her and see her with a loving, faithful, younger man.
Kristen Komis
Miami Beach, Fla.
Kristen,
Why wouldn't she be independent? She's a multi-millionaire! It's pretty easy to be "independent" when you don't have to worry about those nagging details that compromise your freedom such as cooking or driving or doing your own shopping or having to slog through a soul-crushing job for sixty years before dying in utter obscurity and leaving an unmanageable amount of debt for your equally poor family to pay off. Yep, it takes a special brand of bravery to be able to weather the breakup of a relationship (which we all know is is precisely equivalent to being a prisoner of war for 8 years) and still manage to carry on with your hugely successful career and life of luxury. And they say there are no heroes anymore.
I don't know why you Shania fans are so hung up on age, but personally, I hope she snags an older man, myself. Preferably much older - like, old enough to believe a woman's place is in the kitchen, so I never have to hear from her again, unless I happen to be shopping in a Ross when one of her songs comes over the P.A. And if I am, at least I know the meth-heads will be distracting enough that it won't be too painful.
Don Henley must die,
John
That Kate Hudson sure is resilient, isn't she? It's heartwarming to see how she gives herself a full week before moving on to the next man who is "wonderfully suited" for her.
Mary Burroughs
Centennial, Colo.
Mary,
You'd better not be puking on the carpet, goddammit, because I've only got one more day to feed you. I mean, I just assume "Mary" is a pseudonym and you're actually my friend's cat, because all I got from your letter was "Me-ow".
I've had relations with girls from many nations,
John
On the home front, I've got to contend daily with my female (and gay male) co-workers hitting on me for 8 hours at a time, due to my animal magnetism (I spray on monkey pheromones every morning) and absolutely stunning ass. In fact, a certain co-worker who shall remain nameless (Mia) cannot stop staring at it, even when she's driving a forklift, and is so obsessed she's always making Freudian slips like "So my grandfather just died and I was wondering if you could cover for me on Wednesday so I can attend YOUR ASS IS MAGNIFICENT". I swear, man: women - can you think of something besides sex at least every couple minutes or so? You're never going to get equal treatment in the workplace until you learn to start acting professional (and "stripper" and "call girl" are not the professions I'm talking about here, for the record). I would offer to give a seminar on how to conduct yourself in a corporate environment if I didn't know my offer would be answered by every single woman in the office with "Yeah, I'll attend your seminar...as long as it's in my pants!". So childish. We've got a long way to go, my sisters.
Also, a friend of mine had a family emergency, so I'm feeding his cat after work, which is no big deal, except this particular cat, much like Jeremy Piven, has a propensity for vomiting cat food and hairballs all over every inch of carpeted space in the apartment (never on the hardwood floors, for some reason) (that reason being that cats are straight from the devil). So I've taken to calling it Vomiting Cat, or V.C. for short, and let me tell you something: this V.C. is worse than the V.C. I had to fight back in 'Nam (V.C. Andrews, of course I mean). But then, nothing's as easy as it used to be, is it? Anyway, do any of you care about my pain? No, you vultures are only interested in picking over the carcasses of these poor, sweet People letter writers. Well, here you go, you soulless bastards (by the way, this is the second time since I've been doing this that Entertainment Weekly didn't have a letters page in their current issue, ostensibly because it's a Special Issue, I guess. But really, aren't all their issues special? Oh, I'm using "special" in the sense of "retarded" here, in case you just fell off a fucking turnip boat or something):
People, June 30, 2008
I was saddened to hear about Shania Twain and her husband, Robert "Mutt" Lange, splitting up. I can't believe he allegedly left a stunning woman like Shania for the matronly-looking lady who was supposed to be one of his wife's best friends. Shania's heart will eventually heal. In the long run, she's lucky to be rid of him. He's not a mutt, he's a hound dog.
Janice Pielert
Stamford, Conn.
"Just one picture - I'm late for my gig as chair ofa conference on anthropogenic global warming. Do my nipples
project that necessary blend of commitment tempered by compassion?"
Janice,
Wait - you're complaining that he left her for an older, plainer looking woman? I thought this was exactly what Nora Ephron and all those horrible Diane Keaton movies wanted to happen. Jeez, you get pissed if he leaves her for some young bimbo, you get pissed when he leaves her for some old bag - what would make you happy, if he started dating a friggin' turtle? Make up your feeble mind, for God's sake.
She is lucky to be rid of him, I'll grant you - did you know he produced Foreigner? And Def Leppard? And Bryan Adams? Maybe now that he's out of the picture, her music will finally stop sucking the stank out of my sheeyot. Somehow I doubt it, though.
Them young girls, they do get weary,
John
Shania is a brave and independent woman. I'm sure she will recover from this heartbreak and be better than ever. I can't wait to hear new music from her and see her with a loving, faithful, younger man.
Kristen Komis
Miami Beach, Fla.
Kristen,
Why wouldn't she be independent? She's a multi-millionaire! It's pretty easy to be "independent" when you don't have to worry about those nagging details that compromise your freedom such as cooking or driving or doing your own shopping or having to slog through a soul-crushing job for sixty years before dying in utter obscurity and leaving an unmanageable amount of debt for your equally poor family to pay off. Yep, it takes a special brand of bravery to be able to weather the breakup of a relationship (which we all know is is precisely equivalent to being a prisoner of war for 8 years) and still manage to carry on with your hugely successful career and life of luxury. And they say there are no heroes anymore.
I don't know why you Shania fans are so hung up on age, but personally, I hope she snags an older man, myself. Preferably much older - like, old enough to believe a woman's place is in the kitchen, so I never have to hear from her again, unless I happen to be shopping in a Ross when one of her songs comes over the P.A. And if I am, at least I know the meth-heads will be distracting enough that it won't be too painful.
Don Henley must die,
John
That Kate Hudson sure is resilient, isn't she? It's heartwarming to see how she gives herself a full week before moving on to the next man who is "wonderfully suited" for her.
Mary Burroughs
Centennial, Colo.
Mary,
You'd better not be puking on the carpet, goddammit, because I've only got one more day to feed you. I mean, I just assume "Mary" is a pseudonym and you're actually my friend's cat, because all I got from your letter was "Me-ow".
I've had relations with girls from many nations,
John
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
As God Is My Witness, I Thought Turkeys Could Fly
Well, it's Thursday, so here's your update. You know, I thought I'd be much happier confining myself to one post a week - it's an easily attainable goal, and should theoretically give me plenty of time to go through the letters and think up kick-ass responses. But it turns out I still wait until the end of the day before even bothering to read the letters pages and then make it up as I go along. You think this is how John Grisham works? I'd bet a billion dollars it is.
People, June 23, 2008
I absolutely love Ashlee Simpson - she is the kind of woman I want to be. I am so happy that she has found Pete Wentz, who is so perfect for her. She deserves the world, and all I wish for her and Pete is happiness.
Maggie Ascher
Seattle, Wash.
Photographic proof that the fabled race of
super-raccoons Plato spoke of actually exists!
Mags,
She's the kind of woman you want to be? Come on, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. I have no doubt you possess all the characteristics necessary to be a talentless poseur right now! All you need to do for a complete Single White Female-type identity usurpation is find yourself some aspiring "musician" who wants to sound like Blink-182 except not so edgy, and you're set. Try your local mall - they're full of exactly this type (especially working behind the counter at Hot Topic).
I have a question, though: when you say you're "so happy for her", are you really indulging in that catty "I'm so jealous of that stupid bitch but I'm going to go overboard with my fake enthusiasm and hope she gets eaten by a fucking rabid badger" behavior I've seen so many women (and Southerners as a group) exhibit when others achieve some level of personal or professional success, or are you being genuine? Because, frankly, either way I think you're nutty as a squirrel. But, to be fair, I pretty much think that about anybody who'd say Ashlee Simpson deserves the world. Unless by "the world" you mean "swift obsolescence followed by decades of dreary regret". I admit, I'm not really up on all you Gen-Yers' slang. "Put on your bra and get out!" is pretty much all the communication I've had with any of you, to be honest. Oh, the shame of it all.
Seeing other people - at least that's what we say we are doing,
John
I'd love to be the bookie taking bets on how long Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz's marriage will last. I give it less than a year after their child is born.
Eileen Schnatter
Flanders, N.J.
Eileen,
I don't know what kind of ultra-pussy bookies you hang out with, but no self-respecting specimen I've met would even know these two idiots exist, much less take bets on their marriage. I realize your brain's probably a bit addled from the lingering excitement of the Sex & The City premiere, but in real life burly, hairy, balding, cigar-chomping palookas don't have hearts of gold or well-hidden tender sides. There is, in fact - just like Sex & The City - nothing below the surface. Not every asshole is a wounded bird who just needs you to nurse him tenderly back to wholeness, Eileen. Most of them are simply, well, assholes. I'm only trying to save you years of heartache, you realize. And maybe help some poor teenage girl who's infatuated with her high school's version of the "troubled" motorcycle rebel who might be reading this. Don't do it, girlfriend! He'll only hurt you in the end. On the other hand, he most likely will bring you to screaming multiple orgasms, so it's a bit of a trade-off. Whew. I wonder if Spike's going to be at the 20-year reunion?
Oh - I do agree with you about the time-frame, though, Eileen.
Elenore, gee I think you're swell,
John
Entertainment Weekly, June 20, 2008
"Mad men" takes us back to a time that was beautiful on the outside - but not on the inside.
Mary Brick
Centreville, Pa.
Mary,
So you're saying it takes us back to basically every single period in the history of humankind, then? Oh, wait - I always forget: The '70s were actually ugly on the inside and the outside. So I guess that narrows it down. Good work, old bean!
The KKK took my baby away,
John
As a fan of Lloyd Kaufman's since "The Toxic Avenger", I'm giving you props for showing some love to the Troma film "Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead" (Movies, #994). It's a shame my local multiplexes couldn't find room for this undeniably original movie. That's pretty clucked-up.
Scott Milletics
Camp Hill, Pa.
Scott,
For the love of all that is holy, please shut the fuck up.
I can't find you, stay where you are,
John
The cover of your Summer Movie Preview (#994) read "All The Hottest Albums & Tours", so I excitedly thumbed through the issue. But I found out that apparently country music barely exists.
Calvin Fleck
Red Deer, Alberta
Calvin,
Thanks for passing that along - I, too, am delighted by this news!
Wasn't it you and I who made promises of eternity?,
John
Unlike Chris Nashawaty, I WAS one of those kids who grew up reading comic books with a flashlight in bed. To people like me, the dominance of superheroes in theaters is a dream come true. Right now is our time - just deal with it.
Dave Rousseau
Spokane, Wash.
Dave,
Oh, I'll deal with it, all right. But this isn't about me. Holy fucking shit, Batman - it's your time! Whatever will you do with it? Excel in the business world and date a never-ending stream of gorgeous models, I'd guess, based on my experience dealing with superhero-comic fans. Or, oh! - or maybe you can all get together after an advance screening of the new shitty-looking-CGI Hulk movie and perfect your robot ninja army! Then all those girls who never noticed you in high school will see how wrong they were to be so shallow and decide to birth you a Justice League worth of babies! Having thus established your dominance, you'll be able to convince the populace that "Weird Al" Yankovic and Steve Wozniak would be the perfect ticket for the Democratic nomination in 2012, and your kind will finally rule the earth as you've always secretly known you should! You'll advise them to change the National Anthem to the Imperial Attack theme from Star Wars, and they'll ram that shit through Congress (which will consist of Stan Lee, Frank Frazetta, the corpse of Jack Kirby and their assorted lackeys)! The world will be your oyster! Or at least some non-shellfish type of food that you're not deathly allergic to.
Get teenage kicks right through the night,
John
People, June 23, 2008
I absolutely love Ashlee Simpson - she is the kind of woman I want to be. I am so happy that she has found Pete Wentz, who is so perfect for her. She deserves the world, and all I wish for her and Pete is happiness.
Maggie Ascher
Seattle, Wash.
Photographic proof that the fabled race ofsuper-raccoons Plato spoke of actually exists!
Mags,
She's the kind of woman you want to be? Come on, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. I have no doubt you possess all the characteristics necessary to be a talentless poseur right now! All you need to do for a complete Single White Female-type identity usurpation is find yourself some aspiring "musician" who wants to sound like Blink-182 except not so edgy, and you're set. Try your local mall - they're full of exactly this type (especially working behind the counter at Hot Topic).
I have a question, though: when you say you're "so happy for her", are you really indulging in that catty "I'm so jealous of that stupid bitch but I'm going to go overboard with my fake enthusiasm and hope she gets eaten by a fucking rabid badger" behavior I've seen so many women (and Southerners as a group) exhibit when others achieve some level of personal or professional success, or are you being genuine? Because, frankly, either way I think you're nutty as a squirrel. But, to be fair, I pretty much think that about anybody who'd say Ashlee Simpson deserves the world. Unless by "the world" you mean "swift obsolescence followed by decades of dreary regret". I admit, I'm not really up on all you Gen-Yers' slang. "Put on your bra and get out!" is pretty much all the communication I've had with any of you, to be honest. Oh, the shame of it all.
Seeing other people - at least that's what we say we are doing,
John
I'd love to be the bookie taking bets on how long Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz's marriage will last. I give it less than a year after their child is born.
Eileen Schnatter
Flanders, N.J.
Eileen,
I don't know what kind of ultra-pussy bookies you hang out with, but no self-respecting specimen I've met would even know these two idiots exist, much less take bets on their marriage. I realize your brain's probably a bit addled from the lingering excitement of the Sex & The City premiere, but in real life burly, hairy, balding, cigar-chomping palookas don't have hearts of gold or well-hidden tender sides. There is, in fact - just like Sex & The City - nothing below the surface. Not every asshole is a wounded bird who just needs you to nurse him tenderly back to wholeness, Eileen. Most of them are simply, well, assholes. I'm only trying to save you years of heartache, you realize. And maybe help some poor teenage girl who's infatuated with her high school's version of the "troubled" motorcycle rebel who might be reading this. Don't do it, girlfriend! He'll only hurt you in the end. On the other hand, he most likely will bring you to screaming multiple orgasms, so it's a bit of a trade-off. Whew. I wonder if Spike's going to be at the 20-year reunion?
Oh - I do agree with you about the time-frame, though, Eileen.
Elenore, gee I think you're swell,
John
Entertainment Weekly, June 20, 2008
"Mad men" takes us back to a time that was beautiful on the outside - but not on the inside.
Mary Brick
Centreville, Pa.
Mary,
So you're saying it takes us back to basically every single period in the history of humankind, then? Oh, wait - I always forget: The '70s were actually ugly on the inside and the outside. So I guess that narrows it down. Good work, old bean!
The KKK took my baby away,
John
As a fan of Lloyd Kaufman's since "The Toxic Avenger", I'm giving you props for showing some love to the Troma film "Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead" (Movies, #994). It's a shame my local multiplexes couldn't find room for this undeniably original movie. That's pretty clucked-up.
Scott Milletics
Camp Hill, Pa.
Scott,
For the love of all that is holy, please shut the fuck up.
I can't find you, stay where you are,
John
The cover of your Summer Movie Preview (#994) read "All The Hottest Albums & Tours", so I excitedly thumbed through the issue. But I found out that apparently country music barely exists.
Calvin Fleck
Red Deer, Alberta
Calvin,
Thanks for passing that along - I, too, am delighted by this news!
Wasn't it you and I who made promises of eternity?,
John
Unlike Chris Nashawaty, I WAS one of those kids who grew up reading comic books with a flashlight in bed. To people like me, the dominance of superheroes in theaters is a dream come true. Right now is our time - just deal with it.
Dave Rousseau
Spokane, Wash.
Dave,
Oh, I'll deal with it, all right. But this isn't about me. Holy fucking shit, Batman - it's your time! Whatever will you do with it? Excel in the business world and date a never-ending stream of gorgeous models, I'd guess, based on my experience dealing with superhero-comic fans. Or, oh! - or maybe you can all get together after an advance screening of the new shitty-looking-CGI Hulk movie and perfect your robot ninja army! Then all those girls who never noticed you in high school will see how wrong they were to be so shallow and decide to birth you a Justice League worth of babies! Having thus established your dominance, you'll be able to convince the populace that "Weird Al" Yankovic and Steve Wozniak would be the perfect ticket for the Democratic nomination in 2012, and your kind will finally rule the earth as you've always secretly known you should! You'll advise them to change the National Anthem to the Imperial Attack theme from Star Wars, and they'll ram that shit through Congress (which will consist of Stan Lee, Frank Frazetta, the corpse of Jack Kirby and their assorted lackeys)! The world will be your oyster! Or at least some non-shellfish type of food that you're not deathly allergic to.
Get teenage kicks right through the night,
John
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Shut the fuck up, Donny
People, June 9, 2008
Mariah is once again at the top of the pop charts, her body is in great shape, and now she has found true love with Nick Cannon. This is a dream come true. I can't wait to see what the future has in store for them.
Michelle Thomas
Chesterfield, Mo.
Carlton Banks practices the move Tom Cruise
taught him on a pumpkin with a weave.
Michelle,
I'm going to go out on a limb and say the future holds more shitty soulless songs filled with unnecessary melismas that will sell by the truckloads to the dumb-fuck zombie masses that keep Clear Channel Communications rolling in green rather than having their headquarters justly bombed as they would be in any kind of sane world. And also more of whatever the hell it is Nick Cannon does. Horrid Nickelodeon-level stand-up? Direct-to-DVD high school comedies? Sub-Insane Clown Posse moronic rapping? I can't be bothered to look this stuff up on somebody who doesn't even have the benefit of possessing decent cleavage.
I was heartened to notice you put finding true love behind commercial success and having a great body on your list, Michelle, because that pretty much sums up the People mindset more succinctly than I've been able to manage. A lesson for you, though, grasshopper - it's easy as hell to find true love. Keeping it going after the initial thrill has worn off and you have to deal with each other's weird insecurities and illogical mood swings and somewhat bizarre and disgusting eating habits day in and day out is quite another matter. But hey, these two appear to be emotionally mature enough to navigate such minefields relatively unscathed - with the good lord on their side, they'll come through it with only metaphorically amputated pinky toes. And really, what more can they ask for?
One last thing: When you say "This is a dream come true", do you mean for them or for you? Wait, wait - I don't really want to know the answer. Life's depressing enough.
Times, places and situations lead us to an early grave,
John
What was Mariah thinking - getting married so quickly to a much younger man? I just hope she had a prenup.
Melissa C. Sarra
Canton, Mass.
Melissa,
Maybe she was thinking, "I already married some old buzzard from the Pleistocene era; maybe it's time to go the other direction and wed a guy who's able to get it up without chemical enhancement". Or maybe "I'd better snag a man before I go shit-stick crazy again and they decide to forcibly sterilize me for the good of humanity". Then again, perhaps her thought process was more along the lines of, "Though it would wound me to upset even one of the fine, non-judgmental residents of Canton, Mass., it would absolutely kill me if I gave up what could be my last chance for true happiness". Because, you know, the entire galactic sector is constantly walking around pissing itself over your opinion.
I'm sure she got a prenup, though - surely even she knows successful, wealthy entertainers such as Mr. Cannon are the biggest gold-diggers out there.
And when I fell on the floor I drank more,
John
Montel Williams wasn't afraid to hammer controversial subjects like war, racism, AIDS and child abuse. And he didn't just talk about problems; he jumped in feetfirst to help solve them. He was a talk show host with a keen mind as well as a heart and conscience. He definitely will be missed.
Kenneth L. Zimmerman
Huntington Beach, Calif.
"My head? Why, it keeps my thinkin' juice
from sloshing out, you silly goose!"
Kenneth,
First off, isn't it kind of assholish to go by "Kenneth"? Fo' realz, dude - is "Ken" just not pretentious enough for you? Brevity is the soul of wit, in case you hadn't heard.
Second, did Montel Williams die? From the eulogizing tone of your letter, it sure sounds like it. If his show merely got canceled, however, you need to calm your ass down. I'm sure he can land a gig on some local cable-access station or one of the "wacky" morning zoo radio programs so beloved of sales associates and other retards. No need to freak out. M.W. always lands on his feet.
Third, I agree with you that he was brave to tackle such controversial topics. I can't tell you how many times I've turned on the news or checked the blogosphere in the hopes of hearing anybody saying anything about the war. And why can't we have any kind of debate in this country without the hordes of rabid pro-racism, pro-AIDS, pro-child abuse idiots shouting down us righteous few? I tell you here and now, it's a miracle Monty wasn't assassinated for so blatantly taking on such hot-button issues. If not for many, many other perfectly valid reasons.
Fourth, I'm going to need a cite for your claim that Montel didn't just talk about problems, because that's pretty much all I ever saw him do. Maybe you're confusing him with Dr. Phil - they are both bald and annoying. Dr. Phil's a little blacker, though. I'm also going to need a cite that "feetfirst" is a legitimate word.
Fifth, I don't know how it's possible to describe someone as having a "keen mind as well as a heart and a conscience" when they gave scumbag con artists like Sylvia Browne a weekly platform to spew their hateful lies. But maybe that's because I haven't yet achieved Buddha nature.
Sixth, though I'm sure you'll miss him, I have no doubt you'll find some other enriching activity to occupy your time between 10:00-11:00 am on weekdays. I'm guessing it will involve smoking an extra bowl of weed and coming up with new excuses for why you can't land a job. So no more tears, mister! Life's going to pass you by whether Montel's around to guide you or not.
Down in the tube station at midnight,
John
Mariah is once again at the top of the pop charts, her body is in great shape, and now she has found true love with Nick Cannon. This is a dream come true. I can't wait to see what the future has in store for them.
Michelle Thomas
Chesterfield, Mo.
Carlton Banks practices the move Tom Cruisetaught him on a pumpkin with a weave.
Michelle,
I'm going to go out on a limb and say the future holds more shitty soulless songs filled with unnecessary melismas that will sell by the truckloads to the dumb-fuck zombie masses that keep Clear Channel Communications rolling in green rather than having their headquarters justly bombed as they would be in any kind of sane world. And also more of whatever the hell it is Nick Cannon does. Horrid Nickelodeon-level stand-up? Direct-to-DVD high school comedies? Sub-Insane Clown Posse moronic rapping? I can't be bothered to look this stuff up on somebody who doesn't even have the benefit of possessing decent cleavage.
I was heartened to notice you put finding true love behind commercial success and having a great body on your list, Michelle, because that pretty much sums up the People mindset more succinctly than I've been able to manage. A lesson for you, though, grasshopper - it's easy as hell to find true love. Keeping it going after the initial thrill has worn off and you have to deal with each other's weird insecurities and illogical mood swings and somewhat bizarre and disgusting eating habits day in and day out is quite another matter. But hey, these two appear to be emotionally mature enough to navigate such minefields relatively unscathed - with the good lord on their side, they'll come through it with only metaphorically amputated pinky toes. And really, what more can they ask for?
One last thing: When you say "This is a dream come true", do you mean for them or for you? Wait, wait - I don't really want to know the answer. Life's depressing enough.
Times, places and situations lead us to an early grave,
John
What was Mariah thinking - getting married so quickly to a much younger man? I just hope she had a prenup.
Melissa C. Sarra
Canton, Mass.
Melissa,
Maybe she was thinking, "I already married some old buzzard from the Pleistocene era; maybe it's time to go the other direction and wed a guy who's able to get it up without chemical enhancement". Or maybe "I'd better snag a man before I go shit-stick crazy again and they decide to forcibly sterilize me for the good of humanity". Then again, perhaps her thought process was more along the lines of, "Though it would wound me to upset even one of the fine, non-judgmental residents of Canton, Mass., it would absolutely kill me if I gave up what could be my last chance for true happiness". Because, you know, the entire galactic sector is constantly walking around pissing itself over your opinion.
I'm sure she got a prenup, though - surely even she knows successful, wealthy entertainers such as Mr. Cannon are the biggest gold-diggers out there.
And when I fell on the floor I drank more,
John
Montel Williams wasn't afraid to hammer controversial subjects like war, racism, AIDS and child abuse. And he didn't just talk about problems; he jumped in feetfirst to help solve them. He was a talk show host with a keen mind as well as a heart and conscience. He definitely will be missed.
Kenneth L. Zimmerman
Huntington Beach, Calif.
"My head? Why, it keeps my thinkin' juicefrom sloshing out, you silly goose!"
Kenneth,
First off, isn't it kind of assholish to go by "Kenneth"? Fo' realz, dude - is "Ken" just not pretentious enough for you? Brevity is the soul of wit, in case you hadn't heard.
Second, did Montel Williams die? From the eulogizing tone of your letter, it sure sounds like it. If his show merely got canceled, however, you need to calm your ass down. I'm sure he can land a gig on some local cable-access station or one of the "wacky" morning zoo radio programs so beloved of sales associates and other retards. No need to freak out. M.W. always lands on his feet.
Third, I agree with you that he was brave to tackle such controversial topics. I can't tell you how many times I've turned on the news or checked the blogosphere in the hopes of hearing anybody saying anything about the war. And why can't we have any kind of debate in this country without the hordes of rabid pro-racism, pro-AIDS, pro-child abuse idiots shouting down us righteous few? I tell you here and now, it's a miracle Monty wasn't assassinated for so blatantly taking on such hot-button issues. If not for many, many other perfectly valid reasons.
Fourth, I'm going to need a cite for your claim that Montel didn't just talk about problems, because that's pretty much all I ever saw him do. Maybe you're confusing him with Dr. Phil - they are both bald and annoying. Dr. Phil's a little blacker, though. I'm also going to need a cite that "feetfirst" is a legitimate word.
Fifth, I don't know how it's possible to describe someone as having a "keen mind as well as a heart and a conscience" when they gave scumbag con artists like Sylvia Browne a weekly platform to spew their hateful lies. But maybe that's because I haven't yet achieved Buddha nature.
Sixth, though I'm sure you'll miss him, I have no doubt you'll find some other enriching activity to occupy your time between 10:00-11:00 am on weekdays. I'm guessing it will involve smoking an extra bowl of weed and coming up with new excuses for why you can't land a job. So no more tears, mister! Life's going to pass you by whether Montel's around to guide you or not.
Down in the tube station at midnight,
John
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Is That All There Is?
Jesus, this whole week has slipped by me. I keep working on updates for both blogs and end up getting screwed (really, screwing myself) out of time. Here's my new lazy version of my posting promise: I will, if it kills me, at least do a new post by Thursday of each week. For now, I leave you with these exciting developments:
Lindsay Lohan sex tape! Jessica Alba topless photos! Asian schoolgirls tight pussy fucking action! Thousands of free full-length porn videos! Drunk teen loses her virginity! MILF bukkake party! Unreleased U2 album available for download! Tits, tits, tits! This young hottie loves overweight men with tiny cocks! Get oxycontin legally! Win a 2009 Porsche Boxster! Tits, tits, tits! Find a fuck-buddy in your area! Jesus is coming back - click here to find out when! Free monkeys! Some stupid fucking athlete whose name I don't know's signed 5,000,000th home run ball! GTA4 for only $2.99! Toby Keith takes it up the ass! Your free gift: My balls across your nose, bitch! Obama chooses running mate! Troop withdrawal from Iraq announced! Me make poo-poo in me pantaloons! 50 Cent vs. Jason Mraz in caged death match! Sharon Stone's failed career result of karma! Tits, tits, tits!
Sorry. Just want to see how many Google hits I get off that.
Lindsay Lohan sex tape! Jessica Alba topless photos! Asian schoolgirls tight pussy fucking action! Thousands of free full-length porn videos! Drunk teen loses her virginity! MILF bukkake party! Unreleased U2 album available for download! Tits, tits, tits! This young hottie loves overweight men with tiny cocks! Get oxycontin legally! Win a 2009 Porsche Boxster! Tits, tits, tits! Find a fuck-buddy in your area! Jesus is coming back - click here to find out when! Free monkeys! Some stupid fucking athlete whose name I don't know's signed 5,000,000th home run ball! GTA4 for only $2.99! Toby Keith takes it up the ass! Your free gift: My balls across your nose, bitch! Obama chooses running mate! Troop withdrawal from Iraq announced! Me make poo-poo in me pantaloons! 50 Cent vs. Jason Mraz in caged death match! Sharon Stone's failed career result of karma! Tits, tits, tits!
Sorry. Just want to see how many Google hits I get off that.
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