I promised myself when I got The Funeral Guy back up and running that I would try my best to put something up everyday. (My last long break was predicated on my realization that I had nothing funny or even mean to say on the occasion of Lindsay Lohan's 400th court appearance.) I mean how hard could it be? Celebrity OD's, Charlie Sheen and his Goddesses, Hot teacher/student shenanigans, politicians and their kefuffles and bodies getting lost by funeral directors. Lots of big fat ones right in my wheelhouse. This weekend? Shit. I got nothin'.
I've been perusing my usual dark corners of the interwebs and frankly it's all been a big bore. The Anthony Weiner bonerpalooza has gone flaccid as a topic. (Sorry, I'm about at the end of my dick jokes on the congressman.) The unemployment rate has ticked up and it's looking like a double dip recession is on the way. I'm glad that Obama has a headache as big as his ears, but with a daughter graduating from college with limited prospects my glee turns to gloom. Watching the Sunday morning chatfests with Administration spokesholes (h/t John & Ken for that wonderful word) is only mildly amusing as they spin the shitty numbers like Baghdad Bob telling us the American defeat is imminent while our tanks are rolling down the boulevard behind him. But, what the hell, I just can't hear enough of that Hope and Change™message. How 'bout you?
"Hey!!! You checkin' out my wife's ass, Yo?"
"Well, I hope so. Give me a minute and I'll put
her in some pants and you can see her cameltoe."
With the exception of the most guilty pleasure on television,
Intervention, I have never watched a "reality" show all the way through. I just wouldn't do that to myself. Everything I know is from the trolling the interwebs and YouTube. I was at my gym today in my never ending quest to keep myself from turning into a big fucking tub of goo and the TV in front of me was on E! Channel. Since there wasn't any bouncing tits and ass to distract me on the treadmills I learned that Ice-T and his wife Coco now have a reality show. The title of this opus is, I shit you not,
Ice loves Coco: Baby Got Backstory. Get it? It's punny because Coco, his wife, has a huge ass. And not just a huge ass for a white chick. A huge ass period. (Not to mention a
colossal cameltoe.) Couple of thoughts. I wonder how the sisters feel about this? Successful brother get hisself a white girl, when if what he wanted was a Phat back broad there were plenty of those right there in the neighborhood. Oh, well. I'm not one to second guess a guy's choices when his little brain takes over his big brain. "The heart wants what the heart wants" in the immortal words of Woody Allen as he was nailing his step-daughter. Also, wasn't Ice-T's original claim to fame that he was a killa/pimp/gangsta/all around bad ass? Now he's on some celebrity dipshit show with his wife who, from the little I watched, seems to be the focus. (Smart move, her body is superhuman and the male demographic on this masterpiece should be high.) Behind the scenes one has to wonder if he shows Coco the pimp hand from time to time. You know, just so she remembers who's boss. Hate to think that the hood rat gansta poet that gave us
"Cop Killer" was getting all soft and gooey. I'll cut him some slack because we all get older and slower when we get a lot of money and a young wife. (Or so I'm told.)
Speaking of white chicks with big asses.
Kim Kardashian is engaged. This time to a basketball player. (Is this Kris Humphries guy any good? He looks white so I'd probably say no, but I don't know anything about sports.) The Kardashian skanks seem determined to bang their way through the NBA.
Hey, Kris, you ever heard of genetics? It's what makes you tall.
And it will be the reason your wife will have
50 pounds of cottage cheese on her ass in 5 years.
I'm sure this has nothing to do with publicity for season 6 (WTF!!??) of
Keeping up with the Kardashians. WHAT THE FUCK AM I SAYING!!!??? Everything is publicity for these famewhores. Who are these people anyway? From what I have seen of this show all I can figure out is that someone is wildly entertained by spoiled women who get paid to show up at parties and sit around during the day staring at their cell phones and texting. All the while Mom Kardashian is so desperate to be young and famous that she has plastic surgery every 2 weeks and acts like a stage mother to these aimless, talentless trollops who are all adults but still hang around their parents all the time. Then there is the (step)dad, Bruce Jenner. The one person on the show who has actually accomplished something in life. Decathlon winner 35 years ago, in case you didn't know. Since then? ???????? Bruce has also had some of the worst facial surgery I've ever seen on a man. (Men, don't get your face done. See
Rogers, Kenny. Age gracefully. Like
Clint Eastwood.) I'm not kidding, I can't decide whether Bruce Jenner reminds me of a burn victim or one of those fucking sad sacks that decides in middle age that he's always been a woman inside and he's on the waiting list to get the tits and the pussy. I can only imagine that these girls' real father Robert Kardashian is spinning in his grave. Or he would be if he wasn't spending his eternity being anally raped by Satan's pitchfork for the heinous crime of helping OJ kill two people. What a cluster fuck.
Across the pond,
the Royals attended some horse race with the rest of the swells. William and his blushing bride are just back from their grueling sun-filled honeymoon on a fucking yacht somewhere away from their disintegrating country. No muslims were seen in attendance at the derby even though they are about half the population now. I only post this because I found the photo amusing.
Prince William is looking for his best mate,
while Harry does a pirate jig.
The hat on Kate's head cost more
than the average Brit makes in a year.
William's best mate has finally arrived.
It's the guy on the MONOPOLY box!
