Kudos to you brother. We can revisit 8Bit's rodeo drunken insanity and not even come close to the level of awesomeness you have achieved. Shit, I've done worse sober (that is not to denote that I was not imbibing alcohol at the time) and I sure as shit have experienced my share of sadly hillarious maladies mid-coitous post-boozing. But...damn. Dig on this.
From the NY Post:
JERMAINE Dupri had a little too much of a good time celebrating his 36th birthday. The other night, Dupri and his squeeze, Janet Jackson, went to Tenjune, where, spies say, they shared bottles of Jay-Z's Ace of Spades Champagne and Patrón tequila with Ne-Yo, Busta Rhymes and Ice-T - until Dupri "vomited in Janet's lap. Ms. Jackson bolted out of the scene and sped off in her chauffeured Maybach." A rep for Jackson and Dupri didn't return calls. A rep for Tenjune declined to comment. Meanwhile, we hear Dupri is under some stress at work. The head of urban music for Island/Def Jam put out his lady's last album, "Discipline," which flopped. Our insider said, "[IDJ head] L.A. Reid had wanted to make changes to the album, make it fresher with some newer artists added in, but Janet said no - and Jermaine backed her up. He looks silly right now."
Yeah, he looks "silly" because no one has given a fuck about Janet Jackson since Rhythm Nation when her tit wasn't making unexpected appearances during the Super Bowl. Not because he drank some shit champagne (bro, you should've stuck with Korbel if you didn't have to act like you were an expert on good taste) and some funky tequila then puked on the lap of Michael's sister.
Is this all just a little too absurd for anyone else?
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Ike Brought His Pimp Hand Down HARD on Houston like Her Name was Tina Turner...
...but, we are all now soul survivors.
Monday, September 8, 2008
The Band That Made Me Declare Pro Tools a "Necessary Evil"
Well, at least when it comes to these knobs. Jesus titty fucking christ, what horrible parents to blindly encourage their children's attempt at creative expression without counseling them on the merits of talent. Fuck, the Kids of Whitney High have got their shit more together than these mouth breathers. The singer sounds like the bastard offspring of J Mascis sans shredding skills.
There is a bright side here, folks. When these twats enter high school they are guaranteed no girlfriends. They will never live this shit down. This means no potential for cursing the planet by spreading their seeds of sucktitude into a dupable chicks unsuspecting womb of complacency and low standards.
There is a bright side here, folks. When these twats enter high school they are guaranteed no girlfriends. They will never live this shit down. This means no potential for cursing the planet by spreading their seeds of sucktitude into a dupable chicks unsuspecting womb of complacency and low standards.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Cinematic Proof That New Jersey is the Breeding Ground for Douchebags
Me and Black Nathan got into an argument about which state with the highest per capita douchebags. I said, NJ and he said Cali.
The Ginger's pick makes sense because they have been at the forefront of legislating healthy living (choke on your broccoli smoothie, cocksuckers), Sean Penn resides there and they elected the Terminator as Governor.
I'm sticking with good 'ol New Jersey for the sheer Guido factor. And if you think I don't like Italians, you're dead wrong. My former boss, who I love to fucking death, is straight from Tuscany and his son rules as well. We all agree that the Jersey Ital faction that has only grown in strength since the Sopranos is a very serious detriment to American society. The last few months I was at the deli, when some asshole would ask for "moozadell," (these were proud Jersey natives) I wouldn't even reach for the mozzarella and would just stare blankly. Way to garble and destroy your own linguistic heritage. Jag-offs.
So, to further cement my opinion as truth I present you with...GUIDO BEACH
The Ginger's pick makes sense because they have been at the forefront of legislating healthy living (choke on your broccoli smoothie, cocksuckers), Sean Penn resides there and they elected the Terminator as Governor.
I'm sticking with good 'ol New Jersey for the sheer Guido factor. And if you think I don't like Italians, you're dead wrong. My former boss, who I love to fucking death, is straight from Tuscany and his son rules as well. We all agree that the Jersey Ital faction that has only grown in strength since the Sopranos is a very serious detriment to American society. The last few months I was at the deli, when some asshole would ask for "moozadell," (these were proud Jersey natives) I wouldn't even reach for the mozzarella and would just stare blankly. Way to garble and destroy your own linguistic heritage. Jag-offs.
So, to further cement my opinion as truth I present you with...GUIDO BEACH
See more funny videos at Funny or Die
Friday, September 5, 2008
This is Not a Joke: Thank You Twihard Fans!
Sometimes, we all win.
Stephanie Meyer, the tween Mormon vampire teen queen whose Twilight series is radically anti-feminist and illogical (check the archives for more full rant on this bitch), is already so tired of having to come up with new stories and characters that she decided to re-write Twilight from another character's point of view. Yawn.
What faith she must have in her skills as a storyteller after her lastest book was loathed by her fans and her grown up book was a best seller but didn't set anyones pants on fire and surely didn't convince any that she is anything but an attrocious writer. Like I've said in the past, popularity and sales don't equal quality. Hitler had almost an entire nation down with his prose and was a positive thing in the end? Didn't think so.
While working on this lazy re-tread it turns out the thing got leaked. Meh. But, oh wait...what is this?
I think it is important for everybody to understand that what happened was a huge violation of my rights as an author, not to mention me as a human being.
Okay, this whole violation as an author thing really is a bunch of bullshit. Everyone who would want to read your poorly written vamp-romance for 12 year old goth chicks already knows what the fuck is going to happen in the book. It's not a big deal to re-write it from another character's perspective because the exact same fucking events and results will occur once again.
Now, for this whole human rights violation? Fuck you, move to China and then cry to me. Oh and by the way, I really hope someone does truly violate you as a human being. That is lightest form of penance I can prescribe to you after encouraging a generation of girls to be slaves to their dreamboats and that despite certain risks (hey, you did touch on death as a real consequence in your books) it is all gonna be okay and it will all be worth it cause you got your hunk!
And how about another nugget of wisdom:
I'd rather my fans not read this version of Midnight Sun. It was only an incomplete draft; the writing is messy and flawed and full of mistakes. Honey, that describes your writing in its PUBLISHED and EDITED form. Don't think this is anything personal, okay? Even shittons of Twihard fans openly admit she is a lously writer.
And it is them I would like to thank today for making sure this cunt can't profit anymore off of this Suzy Homemaker with vampires bullshit. For that, I give you a days head start before I unleash the hounds.
Stephanie Meyer, the tween Mormon vampire teen queen whose Twilight series is radically anti-feminist and illogical (check the archives for more full rant on this bitch), is already so tired of having to come up with new stories and characters that she decided to re-write Twilight from another character's point of view. Yawn.
What faith she must have in her skills as a storyteller after her lastest book was loathed by her fans and her grown up book was a best seller but didn't set anyones pants on fire and surely didn't convince any that she is anything but an attrocious writer. Like I've said in the past, popularity and sales don't equal quality. Hitler had almost an entire nation down with his prose and was a positive thing in the end? Didn't think so.
While working on this lazy re-tread it turns out the thing got leaked. Meh. But, oh wait...what is this?
I think it is important for everybody to understand that what happened was a huge violation of my rights as an author, not to mention me as a human being.
Okay, this whole violation as an author thing really is a bunch of bullshit. Everyone who would want to read your poorly written vamp-romance for 12 year old goth chicks already knows what the fuck is going to happen in the book. It's not a big deal to re-write it from another character's perspective because the exact same fucking events and results will occur once again.
Now, for this whole human rights violation? Fuck you, move to China and then cry to me. Oh and by the way, I really hope someone does truly violate you as a human being. That is lightest form of penance I can prescribe to you after encouraging a generation of girls to be slaves to their dreamboats and that despite certain risks (hey, you did touch on death as a real consequence in your books) it is all gonna be okay and it will all be worth it cause you got your hunk!
And how about another nugget of wisdom:
I'd rather my fans not read this version of Midnight Sun. It was only an incomplete draft; the writing is messy and flawed and full of mistakes. Honey, that describes your writing in its PUBLISHED and EDITED form. Don't think this is anything personal, okay? Even shittons of Twihard fans openly admit she is a lously writer.
And it is them I would like to thank today for making sure this cunt can't profit anymore off of this Suzy Homemaker with vampires bullshit. For that, I give you a days head start before I unleash the hounds.
Vomit, Feces, Assholes...So, How Was Your Labor Day?
So, Labor Day, the store was open for super short hours (10-7) due to the Galleria closing and all was going well until about 3 p.m. when the entire fucking world decided to go shopping. I just don't understand the psychology of people who get holiday's off and say to themselves, "Jeez, the weather sure is great but how 'bout instead of doing something productive or just, ya know, enjoying life, why don't we go to the mall for 4 hours and blow endless amounts of cash that most retail workers would kill for!" It just makes no sense. Is it really that awesome to spend your extra day off rocking the bedazzled Ed Hardy t-shirt, fresh tribal ink, and Diddy approved 80's shades?
Once the clusterfuck that is humanity swarms into the store a few problems arise. First, one of my female co-workers alerts us that she will be off the floor for a bit since while she was using the bathroom, she noticed someone in the stall next to hers was squirting shit out on the side of the rim and it was slowly oozing down to the ground. Shockingly, the lady...no wait, fuck that...person with pussy, decided to try to wipe up her mooky stinks but ended up smearing shit allover the floor. Look, I've had to clean up piles up shit NEXT to the toilet but that's the mensroom. It makes sense. It's totally stupid, but still, I can understand some mongoloid douche hanging his buttcheeks over the rim and dropping bombs on the floor. Sadly, I can understand that. But, a woman, in mid-shit, with waste running over the bowl, squirting through her cheeks is just baffling. First, why wouldn't you stop, reposition your asshole and then continue with your business?
After that mess, I got to join in the fun.
A little boy and his family come racing into the store, and the little butterball pukes allover the floor and the stairs. Not the tiled floor, mind you, but the carpet. This troupe of fucktards then marches junior to the bathroom and wouldn't ya know, momma is cleaning of this kids kicks after he cleans himself up. It would be such a shame if juniors Nike's had vomit stains on them, after all.
I am charged with the task of cleaning up the mess so I grab the sawdust, broom and brace myself for agony. While sweeping up this revolting pile of human waste the family walks by. I give them the stare of death. Mommy and Daddy aren't trying their best to avoid eye contact but junior is giving me a look of total remorse. He really seemed to want to say, "Sorry, mister" but of course Daddy looked over at him and said, "Don't look at him, son." I continue the stare of death and thank them for their patronage with as much sarcasm as I can muster and they skulk away with some pissed off looks on their faces.
Now, being able to get back onto the floor, I notice that the kind, lazy, dickwads who mistake the store for a library have left half the inventory in scattered piles like little landmines of utter contempt for the employees. And the kids section? Like an A-bomb went off. So, while trying to put the store back together (seriously, even during the Christmas season, I've never seen the store so thrashed) I am constantly interrupted with customers asking for college textbooks.
Here, I'm gonna give you a little insider information about this which should make my total hatred of such questions completely understandable. You can NEVER find college textbooks at ANY retailer. Why? Well, that's simple. Professors get a stipend at the end of each semester if all of the books they have the university order for their classes get sold. It's a scam, it's evil and it sucks but it's also something hard to believe 95% of collegiates don't know. Even something as simple as, say, War and Peace, the prof will track down an out of print, random ass edition just to make sure they get their bonus.
This confuses EVERY SINGLE motherfucker I explain this to. Then, I proceed with a more polite version of this: "Look, we don't carry Democracy in America Through the 70-74, 27th Edition, because we can't guarantee that a bunch of lazy, cheap ass motherfuckers will come in and buy it. Also, we buy shit directly from publishers and a $2,000 investment then marked up to $3,500 would probably not look too good if we sent them all back because you didn't get a cheap enough price on it. After all, textbooks do cost a shitload of money and if you're not willing to pay for the book, even if used, then why the fuck are you paying for the course?"
I've gotten so sick of these questions and phone calls (oh yes, lots of them) that I don't even bother looking up the book unless the customer presses for it. When they frustratingly ask, "Can you just check" and I tell them, "We don't have it but we might be able to order it and it is $125 and will be here in 7 days" they respond, "Oh, well, I need it tonight."
WHAT THE FUCK! You know where you can get the goddamned book RIGHT THE FUCK NOW and you chose to go to ass opposite end of town with nothing but hope in your hearts. You all suck and god help us if you breed.
Finally, some humor finds its way into my day.
A little fat kid, I notice, is hanging around the self help section. This is a cunts hair away from all the sex books, including the insanely popular to broswe but never bought Ultimate Big Penis Book. I let everyone know about the butterball because he sure as shit ain't fucked up and desperate enough to seek counsel from Dr. Phil. Five minutes later, he's inching closer to the titty and cock tomes and is cautiously looking around to make sure no one sees him. I just grab a stool, sit in front of the section and stare at him. Eventually, he walks away, with a very sad expression on his face and leaves the store. 20 minutes later he's back and I just stay in the sex section fucking around. He walks away with another frowny face. 15 minutes later, he returns but this time I'm taken away by a customer. When I return, he is reaching for the Ultimate Big Penis Book when I tell him to get lost. I think it was for the best. I mean, if he had looked at that book like it was an representation of average cocks I belive he would've grown up with quite the inferiority complex.
Then, everything goes to hell again. The phone rings and the woman on the other end wants to speak to a manager. I ask for her name and what this is regarding and she pauses and rather rudely says, "I'm someone who frequents your bathrooms." Right then, I want to drop the call.
You see, there are restrooms allover the mall but every other store tells customers that we have a bathroom. Technically, it is for customers only but a few people got upset when we told them that it is for customers only. So, a lot of horrible things occasionally happen in the stalls but we get way more complaints over bullshit. Like paper being on the floor. I'm serious. I can't tell you how many times a woman has come up to me and said, "I just wanted to let you know that your bathroom is disgusting. Just revolting. I couldn't even use it I was so sickened." And it's usually just a paper towel lying next to the waste basket. In fact, I want to wear a sign around my neck that reads: If your are going to tell me about the state of our bathrooms and they are not out of toilet paper or towels, have no fluids on the floor, wall or ceiling, everything is working properly, and your problem is a piece of paper on the floor then GO FUCK YOURSELF! Dictated, not read.
After a manager takes the call it turns out that one of our lovely homeless regulars has been coming out of the stalls and eating her shit in front of people and then casually washing her hands. Awesome.
At last, it's fifteen minutes til closing and I start making the announcements over the PA. Like roaches when the lights turn on the clusterfuck of humanity scatters in a mad dash to buy all they can the registers look like lines at the DMV. We struggle, but manage to put humpty dumpty back together and it looks like we're gonna skate outta the store 10 minutes after 7.
Closing time for the mall happens and I immediately run to the entrance and block it off with carts of books. This doesn't stop people from trying to come in. Usually, we stay open a couple hours after everything in the mall shuts down so people who can't think of anything more to do with their free time than shop like zombies waltz in, grab stacks of magazines and hang out til we kick them out.
A crowd of 20 deep starts their mongo trek towards me and I tell them we're closed, no, I can't just let YOU in to find a book, yes, we close when the mall does today, no, you can't use the bathroom, sorry, we're closed, no, I can't take two seconds to look that up for you because WE...ARE...CLOSED. GO THE FUCK HOME!
It turns out, the only thing separating the staff from freedom is some fat cunt looking for books on some obscure diet. She won't leave until we find at least one more book so she can finally see her feet again. It doesn't happen and she comes to check out and remarks, "Wow, you guys are really strict about your closing time, huh?"
"Well, right now we're not allowed overtime and there are a few things we have to take care that can happen only after everyone leaves. Plus, the Galleria is also very strict about closing on holidays. Oh, and by the way, did I mention it's a holiday and everyone working would love to go hang out with their friends and family instead of being here today?"
I hand her her change, she gives me a menacing look, obviously insulted because I don't give a fuck about her fat ass and slowly walks out.
Hope your Labor Day was as pleasant as mine!
Once the clusterfuck that is humanity swarms into the store a few problems arise. First, one of my female co-workers alerts us that she will be off the floor for a bit since while she was using the bathroom, she noticed someone in the stall next to hers was squirting shit out on the side of the rim and it was slowly oozing down to the ground. Shockingly, the lady...no wait, fuck that...person with pussy, decided to try to wipe up her mooky stinks but ended up smearing shit allover the floor. Look, I've had to clean up piles up shit NEXT to the toilet but that's the mensroom. It makes sense. It's totally stupid, but still, I can understand some mongoloid douche hanging his buttcheeks over the rim and dropping bombs on the floor. Sadly, I can understand that. But, a woman, in mid-shit, with waste running over the bowl, squirting through her cheeks is just baffling. First, why wouldn't you stop, reposition your asshole and then continue with your business?
After that mess, I got to join in the fun.
A little boy and his family come racing into the store, and the little butterball pukes allover the floor and the stairs. Not the tiled floor, mind you, but the carpet. This troupe of fucktards then marches junior to the bathroom and wouldn't ya know, momma is cleaning of this kids kicks after he cleans himself up. It would be such a shame if juniors Nike's had vomit stains on them, after all.
I am charged with the task of cleaning up the mess so I grab the sawdust, broom and brace myself for agony. While sweeping up this revolting pile of human waste the family walks by. I give them the stare of death. Mommy and Daddy aren't trying their best to avoid eye contact but junior is giving me a look of total remorse. He really seemed to want to say, "Sorry, mister" but of course Daddy looked over at him and said, "Don't look at him, son." I continue the stare of death and thank them for their patronage with as much sarcasm as I can muster and they skulk away with some pissed off looks on their faces.
Now, being able to get back onto the floor, I notice that the kind, lazy, dickwads who mistake the store for a library have left half the inventory in scattered piles like little landmines of utter contempt for the employees. And the kids section? Like an A-bomb went off. So, while trying to put the store back together (seriously, even during the Christmas season, I've never seen the store so thrashed) I am constantly interrupted with customers asking for college textbooks.
Here, I'm gonna give you a little insider information about this which should make my total hatred of such questions completely understandable. You can NEVER find college textbooks at ANY retailer. Why? Well, that's simple. Professors get a stipend at the end of each semester if all of the books they have the university order for their classes get sold. It's a scam, it's evil and it sucks but it's also something hard to believe 95% of collegiates don't know. Even something as simple as, say, War and Peace, the prof will track down an out of print, random ass edition just to make sure they get their bonus.
This confuses EVERY SINGLE motherfucker I explain this to. Then, I proceed with a more polite version of this: "Look, we don't carry Democracy in America Through the 70-74, 27th Edition, because we can't guarantee that a bunch of lazy, cheap ass motherfuckers will come in and buy it. Also, we buy shit directly from publishers and a $2,000 investment then marked up to $3,500 would probably not look too good if we sent them all back because you didn't get a cheap enough price on it. After all, textbooks do cost a shitload of money and if you're not willing to pay for the book, even if used, then why the fuck are you paying for the course?"
I've gotten so sick of these questions and phone calls (oh yes, lots of them) that I don't even bother looking up the book unless the customer presses for it. When they frustratingly ask, "Can you just check" and I tell them, "We don't have it but we might be able to order it and it is $125 and will be here in 7 days" they respond, "Oh, well, I need it tonight."
WHAT THE FUCK! You know where you can get the goddamned book RIGHT THE FUCK NOW and you chose to go to ass opposite end of town with nothing but hope in your hearts. You all suck and god help us if you breed.
Finally, some humor finds its way into my day.
A little fat kid, I notice, is hanging around the self help section. This is a cunts hair away from all the sex books, including the insanely popular to broswe but never bought Ultimate Big Penis Book. I let everyone know about the butterball because he sure as shit ain't fucked up and desperate enough to seek counsel from Dr. Phil. Five minutes later, he's inching closer to the titty and cock tomes and is cautiously looking around to make sure no one sees him. I just grab a stool, sit in front of the section and stare at him. Eventually, he walks away, with a very sad expression on his face and leaves the store. 20 minutes later he's back and I just stay in the sex section fucking around. He walks away with another frowny face. 15 minutes later, he returns but this time I'm taken away by a customer. When I return, he is reaching for the Ultimate Big Penis Book when I tell him to get lost. I think it was for the best. I mean, if he had looked at that book like it was an representation of average cocks I belive he would've grown up with quite the inferiority complex.
Then, everything goes to hell again. The phone rings and the woman on the other end wants to speak to a manager. I ask for her name and what this is regarding and she pauses and rather rudely says, "I'm someone who frequents your bathrooms." Right then, I want to drop the call.
You see, there are restrooms allover the mall but every other store tells customers that we have a bathroom. Technically, it is for customers only but a few people got upset when we told them that it is for customers only. So, a lot of horrible things occasionally happen in the stalls but we get way more complaints over bullshit. Like paper being on the floor. I'm serious. I can't tell you how many times a woman has come up to me and said, "I just wanted to let you know that your bathroom is disgusting. Just revolting. I couldn't even use it I was so sickened." And it's usually just a paper towel lying next to the waste basket. In fact, I want to wear a sign around my neck that reads: If your are going to tell me about the state of our bathrooms and they are not out of toilet paper or towels, have no fluids on the floor, wall or ceiling, everything is working properly, and your problem is a piece of paper on the floor then GO FUCK YOURSELF! Dictated, not read.
After a manager takes the call it turns out that one of our lovely homeless regulars has been coming out of the stalls and eating her shit in front of people and then casually washing her hands. Awesome.
At last, it's fifteen minutes til closing and I start making the announcements over the PA. Like roaches when the lights turn on the clusterfuck of humanity scatters in a mad dash to buy all they can the registers look like lines at the DMV. We struggle, but manage to put humpty dumpty back together and it looks like we're gonna skate outta the store 10 minutes after 7.
Closing time for the mall happens and I immediately run to the entrance and block it off with carts of books. This doesn't stop people from trying to come in. Usually, we stay open a couple hours after everything in the mall shuts down so people who can't think of anything more to do with their free time than shop like zombies waltz in, grab stacks of magazines and hang out til we kick them out.
A crowd of 20 deep starts their mongo trek towards me and I tell them we're closed, no, I can't just let YOU in to find a book, yes, we close when the mall does today, no, you can't use the bathroom, sorry, we're closed, no, I can't take two seconds to look that up for you because WE...ARE...CLOSED. GO THE FUCK HOME!
It turns out, the only thing separating the staff from freedom is some fat cunt looking for books on some obscure diet. She won't leave until we find at least one more book so she can finally see her feet again. It doesn't happen and she comes to check out and remarks, "Wow, you guys are really strict about your closing time, huh?"
"Well, right now we're not allowed overtime and there are a few things we have to take care that can happen only after everyone leaves. Plus, the Galleria is also very strict about closing on holidays. Oh, and by the way, did I mention it's a holiday and everyone working would love to go hang out with their friends and family instead of being here today?"
I hand her her change, she gives me a menacing look, obviously insulted because I don't give a fuck about her fat ass and slowly walks out.
Hope your Labor Day was as pleasant as mine!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
John McCain is a Bitch
Sorry for being so dormant, few readers. Trust me, there will be plenty of fun (for you at least) posts coming up here but let's start with something simple: roasting McCain for one of the dumbest fucking moves in political history. This is up there with Dukasis posing in that tank looking like a fucking turtle.
So, since the shitstorm that has reigned over the GOP since McCain named Sarah Palin as his VP nom, he's been on the vicious defensive. Fortunately, for him, he's got a bunch of shit grinned (I promised myself I wouldn't go partisan, here) yes-person (HA! I showed PC restraint!) pundits sipping the Kool Aid while he has given only tepid response to the torrent of controversies surrounding his suposed Golden Girl (this is not an age attack. Actually, it kinda fits. Oscar De La Hoya was the "Golden Boy" and then the whole cross dressing thing happened. FUCK! I just contributed something witty to pop-culture!).
He was primed to go on Larry King, I believe, tonight. I write this because I saw it on the CNN ticker last night but has pulled out (sanctity of life issue?) due to this bitch slap of an interview with a top aide. Enjoy.
Well, here is a direct link the article that made me just wretch. And the McCain campaign said it was, "over the line." WHAT THE FUCK? CNN is one of the pussiest news channels on the planet and all they did was press for some sort of solid info some sort of qualification to Mr. Maverick's arguments and lost. Big time. Great, dickheads. Go on over to Fox News where Hanity will say, "Y'know, Sarah, knowing you will provide for your unwed teenage daughter and her suposed husband, who, quote, is a Proud Fucking Redneck, and quote, doesn't want kids makes my party feel you will lead this country in the right direction. But, if you were a black woman, man I'd be hollering about welfare and government cheese 'til November! I at least hope, that when little Bristol is in a panic attack over all that has happened good ol' Rush will be there with some Oxycontin! GO AMERICA!"
So, since the shitstorm that has reigned over the GOP since McCain named Sarah Palin as his VP nom, he's been on the vicious defensive. Fortunately, for him, he's got a bunch of shit grinned (I promised myself I wouldn't go partisan, here) yes-person (HA! I showed PC restraint!) pundits sipping the Kool Aid while he has given only tepid response to the torrent of controversies surrounding his suposed Golden Girl (this is not an age attack. Actually, it kinda fits. Oscar De La Hoya was the "Golden Boy" and then the whole cross dressing thing happened. FUCK! I just contributed something witty to pop-culture!).
He was primed to go on Larry King, I believe, tonight. I write this because I saw it on the CNN ticker last night but has pulled out (sanctity of life issue?) due to this bitch slap of an interview with a top aide. Enjoy.
Well, here is a direct link the article that made me just wretch. And the McCain campaign said it was, "over the line." WHAT THE FUCK? CNN is one of the pussiest news channels on the planet and all they did was press for some sort of solid info some sort of qualification to Mr. Maverick's arguments and lost. Big time. Great, dickheads. Go on over to Fox News where Hanity will say, "Y'know, Sarah, knowing you will provide for your unwed teenage daughter and her suposed husband, who, quote, is a Proud Fucking Redneck, and quote, doesn't want kids makes my party feel you will lead this country in the right direction. But, if you were a black woman, man I'd be hollering about welfare and government cheese 'til November! I at least hope, that when little Bristol is in a panic attack over all that has happened good ol' Rush will be there with some Oxycontin! GO AMERICA!"
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