Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Shoe Revolution will be Televised.

I constantly hear non-Americans talk shit about America. They think it’s okay to do so because everyone does it. And Americans often tolerate it.

I hear people from politically corrupt countries say how horrible and corrupt American politicians are.

I hear people from countries which bomb each other tell me how violent America is. Or how we're such warmongers.

I hear people from countries who’d never consider marrying a person of color because it’s not accepted in their culture tell me how racist America is.

I’ve heard people from countries where the majority of the population is illiterate tell me how stupid Americans are.

I say to these people—Yes, you are right. Guilty as charged.

Besides, I’m quite sure if you had the size, wealth and power of America, you’d be completely different than us. You’d make everything perfect just like it is in your country, instead of how it is in mine. Please come fix my country for me. Hurry, please.

I don’t mind pointing out the fucked up shit with America. I don’t mind if you do it. Just don’t get upset if I point out your fucked up shit. I’m an equal opportunity shit-pointer-outer.

There are countries in this world that endorse modern-day slavery and human trafficking and everyone pretends to be blind toward it. Throw shoes at those leaders, too—if you dare.

There are countries in this world where little children are forced to work hard labor all day in sweatshops. Throw shoes at those leaders, too. I mean, we need to all get together and throw shoes at leaders. Yeah, disrespect them out of office. I'm sure that's an effective method.

There are countries in this world that allow little girls to have their clitorises cut off. Throw shoes at those leaders, too. Maybe even call them bad names and make funny YouTube videos about them. Until they are forced to leave office due to humiliation.

So many countries commit heinous atrocities against humanity, but no one throws shoes at their leaders. Most don’t have the balls to do it without fear of death or life imprisonment. And trust me when I say I think Bush is absolutely despicable. I just don’t think he should be the only object of our anger and frustration. He is only a product of the savagery, cruelty and ignorance inherent in humankind. Go in the mirror and cast the first shoe there. That's the only solution I can offer.

In modern times, never has it been any other country that people from all over wanted to go to for freedom and opportunity like The United States of America. NEVER. Never in modern history has one nation benefited mankind to this degree. Yet now everyone wants my country to fall. I truly believe if America falls, it’ll be a great tragedy in the world. If America falls, it won't make the world a better place. An if I were a betting man, I'd say this place would go straight down the tubes, if America was to fall. And if it's headed that way now, then it'd do it a whole lot faster. Shit, just look at the economy.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Goth Chicks: The Dark Hippy? or Zombie Poser?

Disclaimer: I'm joking. So don't take this blog seriously.

A horror is something that is horrible and horrific.
But a terror, although is terrible, is not terrific, right?
I digress. Anyway to the subject of discussion:

So in the spirit of Hallowe'en, keep an eye out for horrorists. We are at war against horrorism. The horror level has been raised to orange. And black.

I bet goth chicks hate Hallowe'en. I mean, this is the only time when they're just not different. I mean, if you walk around life all fucking year long looking like a zombie or a nosferatu then why don't you just off yourself to see if you'll reanimate. That way you won't be a poser. Because goth people are the ultimate posers by's because they are ALIVE. I mean, biologically, at least.

If I went to the skateboard park wearing skate shoes and sitting on a skateboard, then I'd be a poser. So if you wanna really not simply look like the undead, but be a hardcore zombie then off yourself and get the hell up. Pun intended because all unintended puns are intended. That's the point. See I'm pretty sharp. No pun intended.

Or you could choose to slice your jugular and hope a vampire with a good set of nostrils gets the scent and decides to fall in love with you right then and there before you die due to blood loss. But the chances are slim for that happening because you're dressed so ugly. And vampires don't like goth chicks. This is a known fact.

Vampires are very elitist and superficial. And if you're not happy, say, with your outside appearance, you may want to say, do something about that before you go off being stuck that way for ETERNITY! I'm just saying, play some montage music, exercise, get that healthy look and then undie yourself. Nobody would take an overweight Vampire seriously. I mean, I've never seen one. Vampires are very superficial. In fact they'd probably choose the head cheerleader in your school over you.

I'm not saying there aren't any hot goth chicks. There are. They'd just be hotter if they didn't make me want to practice necrophilia. What?

Or if you'd rather zombify yourself, break into CDC and raid some of those deeper levels for the good biohazardous stuff. Boy, you'd be a zombie in no time. Look what it did for her:

Okay, so here is your instant zombie concoction. I just invented it.
Warning: Don't really do this. Not ever.

Zombie Cocktail:
1 oz. of Crack Cocaine
1 oz. of Heroin
10 grams of Methamphetamine
10 tabs of Acid
1 pint of vodka. Stoli wil do.
1 teaspoon of hot sauce. preferably Tabasco.
1 teaspoon of vinegar.
1 teaspoon of homeless bum piss
1 dollop of urban pigeon shit
a squirt of your own blood

Okay so you mix this all up. Heat it till simmering. Drink it. [see warning about not actually doing any of this.]
And you will be a zombie. No more posing for you. No more of you getting mad because people don't know you're dressed regularly because it's Halloween.

Now I know it will taste like hell. That's the point. Taste hell and nothing but delicious brains for you until the end of all time. Yum. Unless of course you get decapitated.

But remember...before you go into the world of thoughtlessness that is a zombie and finally get peace from your tortured existence, you must know one thing: You will never again afterward write another of your stupid dark, depressing poems. Hmmm, on second thought...hurry and drink up.

And why don't they just harvest zombies as a renewable energy source. Put them fuckers on a hamster wheel and tie a dangling piece of brain in front of them and we have power forever. Right before people die, zombify them and put they asses to work. That'd lower gas prices real quick.

And if you have now decided to become a zombie to help save the environment (because goth chicks are smart and could be considered "Dark Hippies") then I will dedicate the following poem to you:

It's titled:
Yo' Brain Look Like Lo Mein

You are a tree hugger of a dead tree o' life
Pain, O woe, strife a slow knife
It seems so wrong, but like three lefts, so right.
Your soul is dark, yet your face so utterly, pointlessly white
Like Mike
reanimated into action
but should not be
Mo' brain, mo' brain, mo brain
Is your only thought
...brain noodles look like lo mein
Now undead you'd loathe a loaf a bread
Mo brains, mo brains they look like lo mein
Much like cocaine go straight fo' brain
yo brain yo brain look like lo mein
no pain, no gain
you must drink the zombie cocktail
if you want to have no shame when you eat mo brain
like lo mein...slurp.

Monday, October 13, 2008

My War on Terror, you bitch ass human.

Every year the terror increases.
If it ain't one thing, it's something else scaring the bejeezus out of you punk ass humans.

…If it wasn’t aliens,
it was the communists.

If it wasn’t communists,
it was a race war.

If it wasn’t the Race War,
it was The Big One. The earthquake that was to take off the east coast of the U.S. (which should’ve hit by now if I remember correctly.)

Well, let’s bring to present day. From the very first day of the new millennium…
If it ain't Y2K,
it’s African killer bees.

If it ain't African killer bees,
it's Bird Flu.

If it ain't Bird flu,
it's SARS.

If it ain’t SARS,
it’s global warming.

If it ain't global warming,
it's so-called terrorists.

If it ain't terrorists,
it's the fucking economy.

Does anyone other than me see a fucking pattern here?
Did I forget nuclear war?

Did I forget an asteroid hitting?

Did I forget Jesus is coming?

Did I forget we need Tsunami detection systems off the coast of the U.S.? I mean, because it'll give us enough time to evacuate the entire eastern seaboard before it hits.
Wait. Did I forget to tell you muhfuckas how much of a bitch I think you all are? I mean, all of you are scared whiny pussies.

The moral to this story? The War on Terror, in m opinion, is not a war on terror at all. It's a war of terror. And if any government was at war against terror, then they'd simply tell us to not be afraid. Instead they're saying the exact opposite. They're saying Be afraid. be very afraid. Be so fucking afraid that you'll beg us to protect you.

Well here's a bit of knowledge. No one can protect you. Especially from yourself. Especially from your own fears. And fear, as we Jedi know it, is a path to the dark side. But the problem is you're also afraid of the dark.

And like DMX said: It's dark. And hell is hot.

Oh, I forgot. There's hell to be afraid of. I mean, you ain't even safe in the afterlife. They even tell you to be afraid of God. I love God. Love doesn't equal fear to me.

So the ironic thing is this: You bitch ass humans are so afraid to die that you're afraid to really live. And so you die...afraid even at the very end.

Not me.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Wolverine caught having unprotected sex with crackwhores.

What good is Spider-Man, say, if he is in a hick town, without tall buildings to swing from? None. You can’t get very far swinging from barns and trailer homes and shit like that. At least not in some parts of Georgia. He's gonna have to run. Really fast. Especially with that New York accent and mask that ain’t white and pointy. Boy, Ricky Ted and Jimmy Rick will hang you with that fancy city slicker web stuff of yers. “Look, boys! We done cawt ourselves a noo yoke myootint. Ain’t that like a homer sexual or something? In his tight pervert outfit. It ain’t fittin’ he running ‘round here like that all ungodly, shooting goo on everythang.”

Spider-Man, although not given much credit, is as at least as smart as Batman. Peter Parker started off as a scientist. In the comic book, his web-slinger was a contraption he built, with limited amount of liquid webbing that solidified when it mixed with oxygen. Because The Spider-Mobile would neither look cool, nor sound cool. And Peter Parker is broke. He couldn't afford to hide it, let alone build it. Besides, I don’t think Peter ever owned a car, so he probably can’t drive.

But he did an amazing job on his costume. Strange he didn't become a fashion designer. And Spider-Man wouldn't look too hot in a cape. Good call, Petey. And smarter than Batman to cover your entire face. But you have no shoes. What’s with that? You really ain’t gonna outrun them truck driving rednecks. They watch too much NASCAR and Dukes of Hazzard. And they carry shotguns. Bullets are a lot faster than ninja stars and shit that most villains throw at him.

Hold up. Why doesn't Spider-Man and all his cognitive abilities make a bullet proof, scratch resistant spidey suit? Hmm…Batman has more common sense. I mean, protect yourself, Spidey. You don’t even have on something to stop you from getting kicked in the balls. I mean, you don’t need to be having kids anyway.

I'm also happy there’s no CSI in the comics Universe. Otherwise all these heroes would be caught real quickly. We'd have cloned super soldiers for war. Like Captain America, whose "super" power is he’s strong and fast as a human could possibly be. By the way, he just got shot in the head and killed. How ironic.

So you know what I'm thinking, right? If Cap'n America was as strong and fast as a human could possibly be--without actually being super--then they illustrated him wrong. I'm thinking someone that strong would be a lot, well, bigger. Like disgustingly, mutant big. And would have no dick. A dick would only slow him down. And if you're going to create a super soldier, wouldn't it be better to make a human as smart as a human could possibly be and then just inject yourself? What a waste of technological resources in the Marvel and DC universes. Oh, yeah, in this universe too.

And it would suck to be The Hulk. Two words: No Dick.
I'd be angry too if I were him. And the madder he gets, the stronger and bigger he gets and the smaller his dick gets. So his strength is technically infinite. But how angry can one person get and how can this anger be measured? And if he (if possible) can get infinitely angry, then his dick can get infinitely small. And if he gets infinitely stronger, then his eyes get infinitely strong enough to see how small it’s infinitely gotten. Because smallness is infinite. It wouldn’t even reverse and turn into a pussy. It’d just be microscopic. And Betty, Bruce Banner’s girlfriend ain’t gonna like that. You’d better calm your ass down Hulk and help Bruce get laid.

I mean, because when Marvel created She-Hulk, she still had her proper parts, if you know what I mean…and was hot! I’d do her. Well actually, no, I change my mind. She might get to having an orgasm and squish goes the banana. Oh well. There goes that fantasy. But there is always Wonder Woman. Her tall Amazon ass. I mean, if she ain’t want us to look, then why is her jet invisible? I mean, we CAN see her. Not as discreet as she’d like it to be. I can hear those pilots now, “Target locked on bogey with big tits at three o’clock!”

Extra She-Hulk note: Good thing her titties don’t get infinitely smaller when she gets mad. She is always in She-Hulk mode. Good thing. Otherwise when she got to PMS-ing… Not a good look. And thank goodness she ain’t one of those masculine feminists either.

But back to Hulk. Anger equals Hulk. Why not just take Xanax or Ritalin. Or get stoned, dude. I mean, you’re walking around the world looking for a cure to being the grows freely all over. And you can get it for medical use in Cali. And what you have IS a medical condition. You’re also a doctor. You can write your own prescription. With grass you're guaranteed to stay calm. I never seen a hippie get mad. Except at Babylon and their boss at the organic coffee shop for buying beans from a grower that uses child labor and pesticides. So the more green he puts in his body, the less green his body will become. Logic.

I digress.

Hmm. Every hero I spoke about thus far has a science background. I see a pattern here. Scientist = Superhero. Clue #1. If I were to psychoanalyze this, I’d say it’s just geek insecurity. They’ve always been pushed around, made fun of, been the outcast and now here’s their turn to shine, get the hot chick and kick ass. Period. I’m okay with that.

Side note: I’m very good at science. And wanted to be one when I grew up. Strangely enough, I dress like a superhero.

Iron Man is smarter than Batman. Richer. Happier. And he is so arrogant, he’s free to say fuck a secret identity. Bitch, I’m Tony Starks, scientist, playboy…Iron Man. Iron Man has bigger fish to fry than Batman. Oh, I gotta save Gotham! Man, aliens are attacking. What the fuck is Batman gonna do? I mean, all he really does is scare people, but never kill them. Pussy. Iron Man wrecks shop with laser guns and missiles. They should team up. Playin’ and slayin’.

But I like Wolverine. Let me tell you why. He doesn't have a secret identity. Just don't fuck with him. He doesn't have a regular job. Just don’t fuck with him. He doesn't even know his origins. He ages really slowly because his cells regenerate stupid fast. He can’t get sick. He smokes a shit ton of cigars. And--peep this--inhales them. Because he can't get lung cancer. He can fuck any broad he wants with no condom. He could fuck a raggedy lip crack whore and have the time of his life, if he so chose. But he has far better taste than that. In the comic book, he banged Storm aka Halle Berry. And in the movie Swordfish he fucked Halle Berry, the only movie she ever showed her tits in.

Wolverine has a skeleton covered with Adamantium--a rare metal that only exists in the Marvel Universe, which once cooled, is unbreakable.

Wolverine, like Spider-Man, can scale walls. But Wolvie does it with razor sharp retractable claws. He was born with them. How cool is that? He just stabs and slices people. And he calls everyone “bub.” “Hey, bub, you fucking with Jean Grey?” Chop, slice…done. And how cool is his name? Wolverine. I mean, it doesn’t end with “Man,” either. Although, he is an X-Man. And, he’s no scientist, geek and has always been cool. He even makes lamb chop sideburns look cool. And that’s not easy.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Before we begin, for all my non-American friends: "Tap that ass" is a slang term meaning to have sex with. Generally vaginally, but not always so. But you can surely see how it's a confusing slang term. Unless, of course, it was created by gay dudes. Whatever the case may be, my profuse usage of the term in this blog is obviously meant toward a woman. A really hot woman. You all know her as Angelina Jolie.

I hear the crowd cheering. But don't. I'm not here to give her many props at all. I'm here to, ahem, strip her of them. Or rather question her props.

I'm not questioning her hotness, I'm just questioning the last time she made an excellent movie?
Girl, Interrupted? Maybe Beowulf?
I mean, I liked Beowulf, but what has she really done as an actress other than be megafucking hot? Shit, if you saw the movie Beowulf, then you know that Anthony Hopkins and Beowulf did the right thing to tap that fine ass. Sheeeiiitttt...
Basically, the movie was like this: She says, "I will let you tap this ass, I will make you into an unconquerable king, provided your sperm is powerful enough to impregnate me with a demon spawn that will kill your people." Ummm...good deal. I mean, did you see her fine golden ass shimmering in that cave? Tell the villagers to kiss their sorry asses goodbye.

I digress. Let's get back to the point. Her sorry ass movies.
Tomb Raider...mediocre. But I would've tapped that ass.
Sky Captain...rubbish...but, exactly...I would've tapped that ass.
Wanted...Well, it wasn't. But I still want know...tap that ass.

But I have heard rumor she's going to be in Atlas Shrugged.
Can someone say "redemption?" A movie I'd watch for sake of Ayn Rand, one of my heroines. And it'd better be good. You don't fuck with Ayn Rand. Y'all remember the last great author fiasco aka Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice. I'm sorry, I loved Aaliyah, but her acting and the movie sucked farts and nearly ruined all that was romantic and glorious about the Vampire Chronicles.

Back to the subject matter. Let's look at Angelina's counterpart Brad Pitt. I mean, Brad Pitt has done tons of great movies.

He's rather non-scandalous. He just makes good movies and keeps it moving. Except for that whole Jennifer Aniston error / era.

But Angelina. Well, she doesn't need to do great movies. Why? Because she's megafuckinghot, right? Wrong. Her ass needs to spend some of that money she always donating to charity and shit and get herself a better fucking agent. And then she'll rake in more dough, instead of sapping Brad. Because she can't go to daddy, Jon Voight. He don't like her. Maybe she can get some sugar daddy action from Billy Bob Thornton on the side. Nah, Brad's paid. And whipped. I can tell whipped cream on a banana split from the other side of a root beer float. The boy whooped, I say. So he can't think straight enough to tell her what she needs to do.

But if you ask me, they're planning something huge. In about five years, one of them is gonna run for president or something. Probably her.

But back to her movies. She's hot, but no hotter to me than Halle Berry or Natalie Portman. Except the latter two make great movies. Except that Catwoman shit. Sorry, Halle, but that flick was garbage with the french pronunciation.

Angelina is, however, a humanitarian and homewrecker and family builder.
Actually, I'd leave Jennifer Aniston for Angelina anyday. Aniston just ain't hot. Sorry. She's just okay. I mean, I'd tap that ass, but only on an off day.
Regardless, Derailed and Office Space was 20 times better than any movie Jolie has made.

So what is the cinematic contribution to the world Angelina Jolie has accomplished that'll mark her legacy? A Shark's Tale? Kung Fu Panda? Shit, you can't even actually see her in those movies.

My point being Angelina is just going to have to step it up if she is going to go down in history as a great actress. Some say she'll be the Audrey Hepburn of our time. I disagree. Check out Nat Portman.

Angelina may end up being the female Mandela or something, but not the new Audrey Hepburn. Not with Natalie Portman kicking ass. I mean they both started young. But Nat started off right with Leon the Professional, Heat, Star Wars, Cold Mountain, Garden State, Closer, V for Vendetta, The Darjeeling Unlimited, and the SNL gangster rap video, bitches. She's written an article in Time Magazine. She graduated with honors from Harvard even.

If you ask me, Natalie Portman sure looks a lot like Audrey. I'd have to say Natalie IS the Audrey of our time. Superb actress. Superb hottie. And she's the on-screen mother of Jedis Luke & Leia Skywalker. It gets no better than that. And I'd tap that ass over Angelina...Anytime. Plus she love herself some Jedi. :) What a coincidence!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Colored folk don't tip?!?!

Here's a joke about black folk tipping(I just made it up):

How much do you tip on a hundred dollar tab?
Five dollars. (plus whatever coins less than quarters that are left over, since you paid in cash.)
How much do you tip at Waffle House?
One dollar. Two, if after exiting the club at 3a.m. (keep your coins, if you're sober).
How much to you tip at a strip club?
Make it rain! I'm buying the bar, trick!

I don't mean to make fun of my melanin-enhanced brothers and sisters...okay, well, I do. I mean, most stereotypes are true, so I'll make fun of this one.

A fly lands in your soup. You've finished eating though. Sheeeeeiitt--free meal, boyeeee!
The waitress bumps you accidentally? Free meal, homie.
That isn't a bone in your salmon, fool. That's a free meal coupon!

But why settle for these old tricks in the digital era. We need to step our game up, mayne! Shit, a black man might be president. Don't make him (or you) look bad with your two-bit scams.

I'm inventing a new product for all you cheapskates. It's guaranteed to get you 100% free meals in any restaurant. One star. Five star. A galaxy of stars...shit, you're gonna get a free meal with my (patent pending) SuperMegaFreeMeal-a-Getter,Biatch.

It's a business card holder that keeps strands of straight blonde hairs for restaurant use. Not the "Lil Kim" kind. But the Scandanavian / Aryan Princess kind from chicks named Olga and Helga.

So peep the scenario:

You and your dark(preferably kinky)haired friend walk in (This works better if you have dreads).

You sit down. You get your food. Don't worry if the server does anything else wrong. It may help your case later. Trust me.

You pull the waiter over and say quietly (like you are a civilized gent or lady) "Oh, there's a hair in my soup. I'm very sensitive about such issues. May I have another." Make sure the food is untouched.

The waiter will bring you new food. No worries. But wait! Look! You gotta get just a little ghetto on their ass. "Okay, this food is new and you bring me another with some blond bimbo's hair in it? Who's cooking back there? Barbie?"

Repeat, if necessary.

"Third time...get me the gotdam manager. Plus you bumped me earlier." But don't make too much of a scene. Just enough for a few judgmental caucasians to look over.

"A free meal did you say? Well, okay then. I really need to get over my fear of hair."

As you leave make sure you say, "I'm never coming back to this fucked up place again." That is until you're ready to cash in that free meal coupon!

Also I got patents pending on the following items available soon:
Box O'Flies: Laboratory created and already dead for sanitary, worry-free handling.

Rat Droppings Like It's Hot: They come in an easy to dispense Tic Tac-like box. Just shake and fake!

And much, much more...callers are standing by. At the last pay phone booth on Earth.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Stop hatin' on Bush?

This blog is about gangsta rappers who hate on G. Dubs.

Okay, so gangster rapper specimen "A" who generally raps about being hated on, shooting haters, making money illegally (or through rapping), selling drugs, committing crimes, being a "boss," etc. decides to hate on Bush. Does anyone see the hypocrisy in that?

Look here, punk ass...Just because Bush got a bigger gang than you, more gats, is a bigger boss, and got some sick nonsensical slang and better game, don't be hating. He's just on his grind. He ain't even gotta leave his office and can wipe out all of his enemies or a country...or the world. Shit, he's got all the dope money, from cocaine in Colombia to opium in Afghanistan, so you can't tell him shit about this game, homie. But you hatin'.

Shit, he's at least never going to jail. You've been to jail. You brag about it on your rap songs. The same song you use to snitch on yourself. All these rappers who been to jail before, I never hear them talk about getting ass fucked. I guess that part wasn't so cool.

Bush can send people such as the IRS, DEA, FBI, CIA, NSA, ATF, CBS, FOX and NBC to your house right now and confiscate your life, dummy. You fuckers talk about money and power and hoes and clothes...nigga please. You ain't got shit on Bush. You should be looking up to him. You should be kissing his ass just to learn how to run such game. Fake ass baby gangstas wasting your time spitting nursery rhymes. Bush ain't never been shot nine times. Shit, the worst physical pain he's ever gone through was falling off that gotdam Segway.

Okay...tis all. Don't hate the player. Change the game, bitches. Be a real gangster like G. Dubya.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Clubs of the night kind.

(Disclaimer at the very bottom Also, if you see red x's where pics should be, just hit refresh. It's funny that way)

A few nights ago on my best pal's birthday, I was forced to go to a club. And the DJ was horrible. He must've been on acid in a K-hole (google it). He kept spinning noise. No, really.  I mean, it was noise. A sort of on-beat warbly noise repeated incessantly.

I mean, are you supposed to dance to that? Or meditate until you reach Nirvana right there in the middle of the gotdam dance floor!? Maybe one of these druggie scenster /hipster posers might say, "Hey, this guy's cool because he spins weird noise and no one else spins weird noise."? Yeah, dude you're a fucking winner alright.


(Above: druggie / hipster / scenester posers you all know and love.)

Ladies, please stop by and give this guy a calloused handjob and say it's a gift from the bartender and a small crowd of vertical corpses. This bloody lamer deserved a fucking medal of honor for his display at jockeying his discs.

(See what they become after they're infected with "Noise" and coke?!)

I mean, if you're a DJ at a nightclub like that, fucking spin some shit to make the party people dance and be merry. This guy couldn't make a zombie move toward bloody brains from a freshly cracked skull of a super genius. He could get a bunch of epileptics* together and flash a strobe light while playing that bullshit, film it, send it to me first class mail and I'd still think it was special effects. *(No offense to any epileptics, of course. That's serious shit.)

So we left that club and went to another. It was disco night and this place was full of desperate chicks in slutty dresses looking to get laid and overweight gay dudes doing splits to "I Will Survive". I was not happy.


(No one is as overweightly gay as Pulitzer Prize-winning blogger, Perez Hilton, shown above.)

So I'm surrounded by sweaty, obese **homosexual men staring at me from every angle. I felt like they were infrared beams from S.W.A.T. snipers ready to take the shot. **No offense to homosexuals, either. I fight for all people's rights**

I just wanted to have a drink and talk with my friends and generally be left alone. I hate disco, too. (But not more than "noise".) Some desperate girl is trying to see if I'm gay or not because I'm dressed stylishly eccentric, the way I always am. Hey, if you want to think I'm gay because I don't want to talk to you, then believe what you will. I've got too much class to tell you it's because your dress is so tight your body hairs are looking like varicose veins underneath. You need to donate that blood to people who need it. (I'll leave out the picture of the veins.)

Plus our pheromones don't match.

And that severe case hyperhidrosis of the armpit. Maybe I should buy you a drink to cool you down? It'd be my pleasure. Bartender, some water please. No, tap will be fine. Yes, I know it's a FEMA-level drought here in Atlanta. But this is an emergency. This girl has lost all her hydration through her underarms and might slip on the floor!

Needless to say we made a quick exit.

So my best pal's new girlfriend makes the most brilliant decision. She takes us to this seedy karaoke bar in the Asian part of town (Buford highway for my ATLiens). And I tell you, I'd never karaoke'd before, but this was more fun than I've had in eons. Dude, four words - "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

no, I meant this one...

(No offense to zombies, epileptics, scenesters, hipsters, cokeheads, gays, lesbians, Negroes, S.W.A.T. snipers, Kurt Cobaine's corpse (be it undead or not.), Jockeys, Sweaters of the sweating kind and people with varicose veins)