I think this is the most fitting tribute I can come up with. Godspeed, Anna. You were too beautiful for this world. And you took a lot of drugs. That probably also had something to do with it.
Have a good weekend, everyone. And don’t cry for Anna. She’s with Barbaro now, stealing his horse drugs. And falling down on clouds in a ketamine-induced stupor.
Okay, it’s time I finally came clean. The rumors have been swirling for weeks now so I might as go on the record as saying it: Yes, Jackée and I are dating. Whew. That feels better. I know it’s a cliche, but I really feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
These past few weeks have been really hectic, what with all the photographers camped outside my apartment, trying to get a shot of me and Jackée leaving together. One time Jackée had to climb down the fire escape on the other side of the building just to avoid being photographed! Unfortunately, one of my neighbors mistook her for a burglar and called the police. She tried to explain the situation by telling them she was the Jackée Harry, but the police just acted like they had no idea what she was talking about.
I guess this is the price people like Jackée and I have to pay if we want to be together. Sure, we’re happy to get the publicity when we’re promoting a 227 DVD or introducing our own line of cologne(Eau de Kukoda drops Sept. 10!), but when we just want to be alone, all the attention can feel like too much. Sometimes Jackée and I just want to have a quiet dinner at the restaurant around the corner without be hassled by paparazzi and autograph hounds. Unfortunately, that’s unlikely to happen anytime soon the way Jackée’s star keeps rising.
Occasionally, Jackée and I talk about retiring from showbiz for good, and maybe just buying a farm somewhere upstate where we can raise pygmy goats and start a family. But that’s just a pipe dream. As much as we knock it, we both live for performing. Be it on the commentary track on a 227 DVD or for a handful of drunks at a bar in the East Village, we can’t escape the allure of that spotlight.
Anyway, I just hope the public will respect our privacy and leave me and Jackée alone to build our relationship on trust, understanding, and royalty checks from the syndication and DVD sales of 227.
Okay, so I saw this last week on Deadspin, and after watching it about a dozen times with my roommate, it still makes me laugh. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe because it reminds me of going to Sabres games in the late 80’s/early 90’s when the NHL was a lot more colorful. Or maybe it’s because it’s funny to hear a grown man call another grown man a “titfucker” and mean it as an insult. Just watch.
Thanks to Deadspin, The MightyMJD, The Airing Of Grievances, and Broadstreet Bully.
Just ignore the inherent contradictions in all the insults they use. And the homophobia. And turn down the volume if you’re at work.
That’s a question that we all have to answer for ourselves. Some people tell me that I dress too sexy for my own good. They say that the reason that I can’t get a good job is because I show up to interviews in hot pants and tube tops that say stuff like “I’m a flirt!” or “Everybody loves my balls.” Hey, here’s a news flash, America: I’ll dress as sexy as I like. Furthermore, everybody does love my balls, which means I’m just telling it like it is. And you can’t fault me for that.
And since I’m such an expert, here’s a handy guide to what is sexy and what is not sexy.
Sexy: The Ross Ice Shelf
If you tell me that you can look at this hot piece of ice without becoming the least bit aroused, then you don’t have a pulse.
Not Sexy: The Larsen Ice Shelf
Hey, Larsen Ice Shelf! I know how we can slow global warming: by putting a paper bag over you, you unsexy block of frozen water! Ugh, I lost my wood just looking at you.
Sexy: The Sessile Oak
Damn, that’s a sexy oak. I’m gonna have to hose myself off after this, Sessy.
Not Sexy: The Red Oak
You’ve got to be kidding, Red Oak. On a scale of 1 to Sexy, you’re not even on the scale! Uh, I can’t believe I even have you on my website.
Sexy: Linguine with Vodka Sauce
Ooh, linguine with vodka sauce. I don’t have to say nothin’ to you. You just keep on keepin’ on, okay?
Not Sexy: Melanie Griffith
Yowza.
And that, my friends, is how you execute a cheap shot.
Okay, I get it, jerks. I’ve put on a little weight recently. Yes, I’m fat. Does that mean that I deserve a barrage of insults whenever I decide to ride my Jazzy to the store for a little shopping? I don’t think so. Jesus, I feel bad enough about my weight without having all the stock boys make fun of the fact that I can’t use the arm rests on my scooter because my bulbous hips jut out too far. So just give it a rest, for Christ’s sake.
Why can’t you let me go to Sam’s Club to buy a 2 gallon jar of mayonnaise in peace? What business is it of yours why I need that much mayonnaise? I’ll tell you: none of your business. And to whatever jerk blocked my path with that blue shopping cart I say, “Go to hell.” I had to honk my scooter horn for a good five minutes before somebody came over and moved it for me.
You know, it’s incidents like these that cause me to eat too much. I medicate my pain with fritos, okay. It is a vicious, vicious cycle that I am powerless to escape. So please, if you see me riding my scooter down the street while eating a turkey leg, please don’t point and laugh. You’re doing more harm than good. Thank you and God bless.
Either this guy seriously overestimated the versatility of Cardinals apparel, or he’s so excited for baseball season that he’ll cheer for anything:
“Whooo! Let’s go Cardinals. This is our year! Pujols for MVP! Also, let’s stop abortion!! Now! C’mon everybody! Let them hear you! Here we go Cardinals, here we go! Here we go, Cardinals-IT’S A CHILD, NOT A CHOICE! Yeaaarrgh! St. Louis rules! What do you mean, my attire is completely inappropriate for this hot button political issue protest? Darrell Porter signed this jacket, I’ll have you know! Screw you, baby killer! No, you shut up! No, you! Ah, I wish Kurt Warner still played here. He would get me.”
To be fair to this guy, I have to admit I marched in a lot of anti-war protests back in 2003 wearing my Bills Zubaz.
Here’s the news story, and here’s zubazpants.com. It’s a sports site written by a bunch of people in Buffalo who are obsessed with zubaz. We will soon be friends.
I know there’s some sort of joke to be made here along the lines of, “When you look up white trash in the dictionary…” or some such, but I just can’t be bothered.
Apparently, there’s a sad story that goes along with this picture. You can read all about it here if you really want to.
Who wore it better: Ruth Bader Ginsburg or Anna Nicole Smith?
Well, this took way too long for something that’s not very funny. And yes, I read my sister’s US Weekly’s.
So you’ve probably seen the story that a 62-year-old woman gave birth over the weekend. And maybe you’ve seen photos of her. But have you seen the image Yahoo is using as a link to their video coverage of the story? Be glad if you haven’t. ‘Cause here it is:
Oh my God, that is one of the most disgusting pictures I’ve ever seen on the Internet. I’m talking about the whole Internet. Trust me, there is some real filth out there, yet this screen capture of a flabby-necked 62-year-old baby-pooper, mouth-agape is one the grossest things I’ve seen. That’s all.
Calif. Woman, 62, Gives Birth to Baby Boy via Yahoo! News
Update: My Mom just called to tell me this woman is blind! Whoops! Didn’t mean to make fun of the blind. This still doesn’t change the fact that Yahoo! should definitely not be using this photo, which was my original point.
I’m sure I’m not the first to notice this, but doesn’t recently-deceased Dunkin’ Donuts commercial actor Michael Vale look a lot like Hitler, if Hitler had survived and lived to 83?
Separated at…I don’t know. I miss Spy Magazine, too.
Anyone else? Oh, and I hope this makes Geoff Haggerty cry.
Via Yahoo: Sleepy-Eyed Dunkin’ Donuts Actor Vale Dies
Update: I changed the original picture I had up to the current side-by-side one, which I Photoshopped all by myself, thank you.
So you know how when you and your friends are watching a game on TV and they show a particularly ugly player, and someone makes a joke about it and then the conversation turns to the question of who the ugliest athlete in professional sports is? And everyone says Popeye Jones or George Muresan or Randy Johnson? Well, that argument is over thanks to this man.
Introducing Nikolay Valuev, a 7-foot Russian boxer that looks like a cross between a Siberian Bear and a Frankensteinesque monster cobbled together from the body parts of cadavers. Ugly cadavers.
I mean, wow. Just look at him. And I don’t know if you can tell by these pictures, but he’s covered in body hair from head to toe. If you’re curious where he got that fancy belt in these photos, you can read about it here. Apparently it was quite controversial, but I don’t know shit about boxing so I won’t pretend to understand it.
From Yahoo News:
‘West Wing’ Actor John Spencer Dies at 58
John Spencer, who played a dedicated politico on “The West Wing” who survived a serious illness to run for vice president, died of a heart attack Friday, his publicist said.
These guys played my college spring fling! They were awesome!
What, too soon?
West Wing Actor Dead at 58 (Yahoo News)
Related: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
