Category Archives: celebrity

Protesting the Westboro Baptist Church

Over the last year I’ve seen a big shift in my world view towards a more aggressive atheism and a much more liberal political view. As this witches brew of new ideals began to come into more focused views and opinions, I’ve been looking for a way to get more involved and try to make a difference in the world. One such opportunity presented itself last week when the conservative talk radio station my boss listens to announced that the Westboro Baptist church, famous for picketing funerals with their anti-gay hate speech, would be picketing the funeral of Elizabeth Edwards.

Elizabeth Edwards is the ex-wife of my former senator John Edwards, who ran as vice presidential hopeful alongside John Kerry when they (and pretty much everyone on the planet) lost out to G. Dubyah and Cheney. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a big John Edwards fan, but Elizabeth seems like a strange target for such animosity. Her first child died in a car accident at the age of sixteen. Her husband cheated on her, had a baby with his mistress, got caught covering it up, and embarrassed her in front of the nation. So she ditched him. And let’s not forget that she got breast cancer, and after a six year illness kicked the bucket at age 61.

So the never pleasant Westboro clan who, like all credible moral sources live on a compound in Kansas, announced they would picket her funeral. You can try to read their press release here, although I couldn’t make much sense of it. After spewing incoherent psychobabble for a few minutes, they mention she and her husband “decided they would show God who is boss, [after he killed their first son for reasons unclear] and meddled in matters of the womb, resulting in two more children”. Yeah, what a bitch. She wanted more kids after god killed her first one.

I'd rather play tummy sticks too.

God hates androgynous fags, unlike the hotties of WBC!

A few lines farther down the page Westboro somehow combines the words ‘smashmouthed’ and ‘Godsmacks’ in a sentence that doesn’t say, “Godsmack is much, much, much better than Smashmouth unless you are a thirteen year old girl, and even then fuck you and Smashmouth.”

Some of their other outrage comes from allegations that she was less than praise filled when talking about God stating that “God could not … protect my boy”, that she wasn’t asking god to save her from cancer, and possibly the most shocking, that god was “not the God I wanted”. I’m not sure exactly what the WBC expected after decades of intense personal loss. I think the god of the bible is a total asshole and I’ve never lost anyone, or had a wife who cheated on me, or gotten cancer. I don’t need that kind of reason to be pissed, because religion claims your god stuck my ass on a planet filled with jerk offs like the WBC, and that alone deserves a swift kick in the nuts. The fact of the matter is that after her death she relied on her church greatly for support and inspiration, and despite her religion was able to work through her cancer to support gay rights and oppose war.

Don't forget I used to be super hot.

So I got a few of my Friends to go with me, and I prepared for the festivities the night before. I spent a half an hour or so coming up with slogans for our signs, and let Tim and Heather pick which ones they would like to have. In the process I learned a few things about protesting. First of all, check the weather, because it would have been really nice to know in advance that it was going to be 37 degrees and rainy before I left the house with no gloves or head gear or umbrella. Second, if you make signs, use something sturdier than poster board. Ours might have held up better if it had just been windy, but with the rain added they were floppy piles of crap by the time we shivered our timbers back to the car.

As it turns out we were a few blocks down from the funeral, and there were only five WBC members there to protest, two of which were children. It was a bit of a let down, I certainly didn’t feel properly outraged. They held signs proclaiming “You will eat your babies”, and “Thank God for breast cancer”. Across the street we had about three hundred protesters, from all walks of life. In our group we had two Christian conservatives and a liberal atheist, and all around us you could see the diversity reflected as people of all colors and creeds came to give the extremists the middle finger. Every demograph seemed to be represented, from the young to the old, educated or otherwise, we all had a common moral bond, that the folks across the street were despicable, and that for a few hours at least, we could all stand together united under one purpose.

On the street itself a steady stream of protesters in cars circled the block, with the bikers flicking off the whackos while revving their Harleys, the rednecks blaring country music and waving american flags and POW/MIA flags, and the college kids dancing to macho man and house music, with hot lesbian coeds riding out of the sunroof and making out. Meanwhile in the crowd people were passing out pink ribbons to acknowledge breast cancer victims, and holding their own signs. Apparently someone hit a WBC member with a water balloon, which must have been miserable because of the cold, but I missed it.

For the most part the signs were lame. Our people had slogans ranging in boring-ness from “grace” to “hero”. I’m sorry, but this is a protest, not a Lifetime midday movie for housewives brimming with weepy Hallmark moments. But it seemed like most of the sappy stuff was at the other end of the crowd, directly across from the WBC pen. To give you a feel for our end of the barricade, I hadn’t been there for more than thirty seconds before a gothic kid with fangs (they looked really good, possibly surgically implanted) asked me if he could photograph me and my sign. One side of my sign read, “FSM (picture of flying spaghetti monster) FLIED FOR YOUR SINS” and the opposite side read, “THOU SHALT NOT BE AN A**HOLE”.

I focused my efforts on comedy because I think parody works best for me. I want to use humor to diffuse the anger in a tense situation, and simultaneously point out how ridiculous it is to believe in things like the Bible. I was surprised though, at how many people came out of the wood work to ask for pictures of our signs, and especially my spaghetti monster sign. Living in the Bible belt, and the deep south, and working as I do with almost entirely Christian conservatives, it seems most of the time like there is nobody around me who feels the same way. So it was nice I guess, to see so many of my people, the ones with died hair, facial piercings, tattoos, and the like. I don’t think that’s superficial, I think it’s just natural to want to be around people similar to yourself, and to feel more comfortable around people who look and talk like you do. And it was extra reaffirming to have so many approach me and show support.

I did have a few negative responses to my atheist views, but none were rude or offensive. In fact the one person who actually got mad wasn’t even mad at me directly, he was mad about the sign I made for Tim that read, “Zeus hates Baptists! Burn in Hades nonbelievers!” Because they had moved the protest a few blocks away from the funeral, we just so happened to be directly in front of another church. One of their members came over, and with his teeth practically clenched with anger said to Tim, “I get what you’re trying to do here, I really do. But that line of people across the street (there was a line of people going into the church, who weren’t part of any protest, but we didn’t know who they were or what they were up to) is full of poor families here to get their children presents for Christmas. There are 300 Baptists in that building right now giving away toys to poor kids and you are out here doing the same thing [the WBC] is doing.”

Wow, that was unexpected and awkward. Except not really at all once I had thought about it. The problems I had with the words that had come out of his mouth started taking shape and lining up to explode out of my mouth, but before I could get in a single word Tim, much to my surprise, had already told the man he couldn’t help him, and he had a right to have his sign, and had sent him back to his church. While my friend is an extremist conservative, he’s also a really nice guy to almost everyone, so I was surprised he had stood up for his right to make a joke. Except then I got to thinking about it, and I got mad at the First Baptist Church member who had addressed us. There were 300 Baptists in that building, and five outside giving them a bad name, and all they had to do was get up and walk outside to join us in protest. I’m sure they didn’t need 300 people to hand out toys. Not only that but this guy quite clearly did not “get” what we were trying to do. In order to get it he would have needed a sense of humor, which he clearly did not possess.

When all was said and done the WBC freak show packed up and everyone cheered, and then hurried back to their vehicles because we were all soaking wet and freezing from standing in the wind and rain for hours. I know that by going to protest these extremists, we only get them the media attention they want in the first place. But by the same token, if nobody stands up and says something is wrong, people probably won’t end up dealing with it. I would hope that by using parody to point out how ridiculous bigotry against the evil “fags” inherently is, maybe some of the more moderate religious people will realize that they are doing the same thing in a watered down way.

The fact is that the WBC doesn’t make this stuff up, their hate really is printed in the Bible, mixed in with the bits about loving thy neighbor, and reserving judgement for their lord. The more I am exposed to the LGBT community, the more ashamed I am that we as a society allow an entire group of people, who are amazing, and creative, and fun, and add vibrancy and spice to our species, to be systematically denied civil rights, and be bullied, discriminated against, and treated as hated, second class citizens by the very people who claim they have the monopoly on morality. I would hope that at least some of the people on the fence will see things like this, and lean a little bit farther towards secular humanist values. In my personal opinion, we will never see an end to this sort of religious hate no matter how hard the church tries to adapt to an increasingly educated world.

Unfortunately for the religious, the values of racial hatred, political and social imperialism, and a divinely commanded moral superiority are built into the holy books of  the Abramahic religions. As long as it’s still printed in those perfect, infallible fairy tales, people will still believe it’s right. The only way I see to cut out the root of this problem is to grow as a species past the need for ancient scrolls to tell us what to do. I personally don’t need a master to tell me what is right and wrong, and I think when people let go of their fear and look inside, they will realize that none of them need servility either. We can make the world better, but we aren’t going to get any help from an outside source, it’s up to us as human beings to fix it ourselves.

At Last

So it’s been a full year since My woman and I have been able to see each other, and just when I’m starting to worry the internet has run out of porn, she flies down for a ten day vacation. Besides the sheer fact that I finally get to knock boots again, which was kind of blowing my mind, but on top of that I haven’t had ten whole consecutive days of not-working for many many years. It was really nice, to say the least. By the end of the first weekend I was all rested up and ready to go back to work, and I figured by the end of another week I would be going stark raving mad from boredom. As it turns out though, by the end of my vacation I was ready for another vacation to rest up from the first vacation, and cursing every minute of work all day Monday. Apparently I get spoiled easy. I hope I can retire one day because laying around all the time doing whatever you feel like is fucking awesome. It was like if a damn Jimmy Buffet song mated with a Bob Marley song.

I deserved a break though, because I had been working fourteen hour days for the last few weeks, coming home from my daytime manual labor duties and spending the evening working on my brother’s house until ten or eleven every night. I want a new place to live so I decided to build one with him. We’re closing in his carport and making it into a big ass bedroom and a new laundry room. And let me tell you, nobody loves playing around with power tools more than me, but even I get burned out when I work too much. (more on the project in the next post)

So we rented a hotel for the first few nights, so we could have plenty of privacy for the explicit section of our time together, and let me tell you, I friggin love Hotels. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if I was off probation and could toke up on some of the dank ass ganja we had, and if they had smoking rooms, because trooping my lazy ass downstairs and outside every time I wanted a stoagie was kind of lame. I had to put on pants and everything. We also discovered that boobs do float in water, as long as they are natural.

Why is it that people on vacation always eat the most unhealthy shit ever?

Why is it that people on vacation always eat the most unhealthy shit ever?

I gave Emerald some of the good old southern treatment, making sure some of our activities exposed her to life in the dirty south. I took her grocery shopping at the Super Walmart, the Mecca of white trash. I absolutely love Walmart, it’s like heaven but with more fat people, but she’s not such a big fan. In fact she hates Walmart. But with me as her sherpa she didn’t hate it so much, and even had a little bit of fun. I guess America really does have more fat people than other countries, cause she was a little shocked by this whale of a woman we saw with her two Fatty McFatfat offspring in IHOP. I told her southern people are fat cause we have so much good food it’s damn near impossible to stay in shape. Besides, I love a little extra cushion for the pushin’. That and we have a lot of buffets. I guess buffets are another American thing, cause she told me they don’t have that many in Toronto. WTF?!! That’s one of the coolest things a restaurant can do. It’s cool as hell to be able to eat all you can, and it’s common practice that if you pay for all you can eat, you have to eat as much as you possibly can until you feel like shitting and ralphing at the same time, and you waddle out of the store like some engorged mongoloid.

I didnt know they even served rolls at IHOP.

I didn't know they even served rolls at IHOP.

So in general we had a real blast. I took her out for an official date night, with dinner and a movie. We went to a Japanese steak house, you know the kind with the crazy knife wielding chefs and the fireballs. It was pretty cool, except for the huge black family the got seated next to us and were on their phones the entire time, except when they were interrupting our conversations with a bunch of stupid ass bull shit. If you insist on being a pain in the ass, at least do it on your side of the table. It was kind of funny too cause I’m pretty sure our chef was Mexican, which I found amusing. We also saw the Hangover which is fall down hilarious. My only gripe about the whole movie was that Heather Graham played a hooker and didn’t show her tits, which is complete bullshit, you all know how I feel about boobies. Still though, go watch it, it is worth every penny, unless you are some kind of douchebag who thinks grown men who make infants pantomime masturbation isn’t funny.

Seriously, I fricking love bosoms.

Seriously, I fricking love bosoms.

Fire inside is cool.

Fire inside is cool. Almost cool enough for me to skip the little black Sambo joke this picture makes me think of every time I see it. (Ooooh lawd! Eeessa fiyah suh!)

The other big event we had that week was Going on my favorite morning radio talk show, Bob and the Showgram. Every Friday they have the free-for-all, which is where they have the studio audience in to tell stories and play games and such. I’ve wanted to go on the Showgram for years, and I may not have another chance before I move to Toronto, so this was a real treat for me. We got there super early in the morning, and waited for the interns to come down and take us up to the studio. Then Sweetness, the gay intern came out and helped us through the whole waiver process, making sure none of us can sue the station if we end up losing our jobs or families over anything we say on air. Sweetness by the way, was fun as hell in real life. And they fed us all free Bojangles, which for those of you who aren’t from dixieland is a fried chicken and biscuit place with fucking delicious food. And of course Em is a vegetarian, and there was another gay dude there who was also a vegetarian, so I ended up with a triple meat biscuit, with ham, fried chicken, and sausage all slammed together in a triple meat spectacle. They should have that on the menu, cause it was awesome. Sweetness was even getting a little excited with all that meat pressed together, and wanted a triple meat sandwich of his own, but like a true gentleman I stayed faithful to Emerald.

They took us back to the studio after a little while, and I was of course the very first one in the door, so I got seated right next to the big man himself, Bob Dumas. I never ended up on the air to tell any stories, which kind of bummed me out, but I was so high on everything else that I didn’t really care. It was weird though, because all these other people had stories that sounded like they would be interesting as hell, but they kept being soooooo boring. How do you make a story about being knocked into a coma because lightning hit you on a jet ski uninteresting? How do you take a story about banging a chick in a porta-john at a Nascar race boring? It was like these people were trying to suck extra! And I’m there next to Bob practically jumping out of my seat like, “Pick me! Pick me! I have a story about skinny dipping with a bunch of Mexicans and some fat chicks we met at a gas station!” I did however get to shock Weird Creep John with a cattle prod in the armpit. He was an annoying little pussy in real life though.

I met Sinbad. That was pretty cool, cause I’ve never met a celebrity before except for at signings after shows. It was cool, I shook his hand and we talked about how cool iPhones are. He’s a pretty big dude in person. Em however did make it on the Showgram, they pulled her up to play a game called horseshoes and hand grenades, which is basically just a bunch of random ass trivia questions with cool prizes. She CREAMED Mike, with a landslide victory. I was worried for her because Mike is usually pretty good, but the score ended up five to two, and one of his two was only because they both guessed the same number. I’ll try and ge the audio from the show and edit it together in a sound clip you can listen to, but not right now, cause I’m ass tired from working all weekend.

Bob Dumas on the left, Mike Morris in the middle, and my sexy, sexy woman, Emerald, on the right.

Bob Dumas on the left, Mike Morris in the middle, and my sexy, sexy woman, Emerald, on the right.

All in all it was a really great vacation, and I can’t wait to see her again. I’ll leave you with a few more pictures. For now I’m going the hell to sleep, cause I have to keep myself alive long enough to move up there so I can live like this every week.

Em making breakfast, french toast and coconut battered fried plantains.

Em making breakfast, french toast and coconut battered fried plantains, with a side of white trash bra showing.

Photobombed by my brother Nate. It would have been a really cute picture asshole. Go die in a fire.

Photobombed by my brother Nate. It would have been a really cute picture asshole. Go die in a fire.

Putting the ass back in classy.

Putting the ass back in classy.

Her words say no but her eyes say hell yes. Sloppy wet time sugar!

Her words say no but her eyes say hell yes. Sloppy wet time sugar!

Just so you all know, there are pictures of her filling out a very sexy rebel flag bikini, but she wont let me put them up, so you get this crap instead.

Just so you all know, there are pictures of her filling out a very sexy rebel flag bikini, but she won't let me put them up, so you get this crap instead.

Real Girls Eat … Their Words

So I recently ran across a story involving Jessica Simpson, the super hot, super dumb sex symbol/musical train wreck. She was photographed wearing a shirt that says “Real girls eat meat”, and of course, the jack offs down at PETA were outraged. (you may have to look for a few minutes, I know I did, but there actually is a slogan on Jessica Simpson’s boobs)

I was immediately distracted by the shirt that anonymous-man-purse-wearing guy is sporting that clearly reads “fuckery” and wondered why this story wasn’t about Pat Roberson freaking out over a trans-sexual flaunting his trans-sexuality. Or perhaps why PETA wasn’t concerned about all the members of DEVO that were slaughtered to make her purse, but then I remembered that this is all about how animals are more important than people and our collective survival, and how offensive it is for Jessica Simpson, the planets leading role model, to slather some morally bankrupt kitty torture slogan all over her delicious boobies.

The following is “Top Five Reasons Only Stupid Girls Brag About Eating Meat”, a blog post taken from the Peta website, and my top five reasons only idiots blog for PETA about Jessica Simpson’s wardrobe choices.

1. Meat increases the risk of breast cancer. A 2007 study of 35,000 women published in the British Journal of Cancer found that women who ate meat were far more likely to develop breast cancer than women who consumed none. Will Jessica’s next t-shirt will say, “Real Girls Smoke 3 Packs a Day”?

How absolutely correct of you, you self righteous cunt. Thank you for informing us all about the obvious correlation between eating meat and losing your tits to cancer. Without trusted members of the medical field to educate the ignorant masses we could have blithely written that off as some sort of cracked up nonsense. Oh wait, say what?!!! You aren’t a doctor? You aren’t even a medical professional of any kind? Holy crap according to your PETA profile, you are trained in advertising and promotions. So tell me exactly, Christine Doré, when did you become an expert on the dangers of cancer? Was it when your career became “focused on e-mail marketing” or was it at some point when you were hanging out with your dogs Howdy and Francis listening to Michael Jackson, the kiddie molester? (I guess it’s ok as long as he didn’t wear a t-shirt promoting some kind of harm to ANIMALS for Christ’s sake)

Let’s review a few other risk factors for breast cancer shall we Christine? Age, previous breast cancer, family history, alcohol use, exposure to outdated medical practices, exercise, body fat, high body weight/height, previous miscarriage or abortion, and hormone levels, especially that of estrogen, caused by an early first menstruation, late menopause, late pregnancy, no pregnancies, birth control pills, and hormone replacement therapy. According to Christine’s logic, anyone participating in an activity with a cancer risk increase has an implied shame of some kind. I guess all you women out there who have gone through puberty or lived past forty five should write sincere apologies to Christine for leading such a shitty example for the non cancer having bitches like her. Not to mention the devils who were born with a history of cancer in their family. In fact, I think we should go ahead and put PETA in charge of a genome cleansing project run by their blog writing marketing staff so that none of the little girls who grow up in the vegan future will have to worry about breast cancer ever again. (they can focus on worrying about growing up to be thumb-in-their-ass idiots who piss off everyone who likes steak)

2. Real girls don’t support animal abuse. Compassion is super sexy, if the huge number of hot celebs ditching meat is any indication. Young women turn vegetarian in droves when they learn that the meat industry cuts the sensitive beaks off newborn chicks and cuts off the tails of baby piglets.

Oh snap, how right she is, all women should be sexy drones just like the vapid, whoreish meat bags that line the glittery gutters of Hollywood. While we’re at it, why would you use Hollywood starlet’s as a lifestyle example for young women in a post bashing one of the biggest Hollywood starlets for being dumb and cruel? You know what’s sexy to men? I’ll give you a clue Christine, it’s not flapping your face hole incessantly about the evils of eating meat, it’s displaying your tits and ass like a five dollar Mexican hooker. Let’s look at some movies guys like for a second. Die Hard, 300, Rambo, the Shawshank Redemption, Saving Private Ryan. I could go on and on, but my point is that they all lack what I’m sure your definition of “compassion” is. In fact the things that guys like make real life slaughter houses look like Beverly Hills day care spas, so shut your bloody trap. (ha ha ha, bloody trap, my double meanings are endless today! Fuck you small woodland creatures!)

3. The meat industry is destroying the Earth. The only thing that’s hot about the meat industry is that it’s toasting the planet. According to the United Nations, raising animals for food causes more greenhouse-gas emissions than all the cars, trucks, SUVs, planes, and ships in the world combined.

News flash bitch, global warming is a total scam. It’s a fucking myth promoted by ass holes just like you with a slightly different agenda. Sea levels rising, melt ice in a glass and see if it overflows. Global temperature linked to so called green house gasses? More like the cycle of the fuckin sun dipshit. Plants on Antarctica, ice age, natural cycles predating mankind, greenhouse gasses FOLLOWING not preceding a global warming? Ringing any bells? I’m not even going to bother linking to the seemingly boundless resources of information about this, because frankly if you haven’t looked up some of the arguments against it by now, you don’t really want to be informed anyway. The only source of hot air I want shut down is the freaks down at PETA.

4. Meat will make you fat. All the saturated fat and cholesterol in chicken wings, pork chops, and steak eventually leads to flabby thighs and love handles. I hope the upcoming “Jessica Simpson’s Intimates” line comes in plus sizes! Going vegetarian is the best way to get slim and stay that way.

Why didn’t you go with the logic from your second point here Ms. Peta? Isn’t being a non fatass fatty the norm for sexy in Hollywood? It seems like this would have been a good time to bring that up. (except that Hollywood skinny is also known as disgusting and skeleton like) But wait, those freakish twigs don’t stay skinny with vegetables do they? No more like fingers, I guess that doesn’t fit into your propaganda does it?

I’m sorry, but this is so clearly bull shit that it’s almost retarded to respond, but since I thrive on quasi-tard material, why the hell not? What causes obesity class? (children in unison) “Eating too much and sitting on your lazy ass writing blogs.” Very good children, and what is the best way to get slim and stay that way? (children in unison) “Eating less and getting off your fat ass to work out!” Very good class, now let’s have some snacks and take nap time.

5. Eating meat steals food from starving kids. Jessica’s trip to help kids in Africa got a lot of media buzz, but by gnawing on meat, she’s essentially stealing food from the mouths of starving children since it takes up to 16 pounds of grain to produce just 1 pound of meat. If more people went vegetarian, we’d free up enough grain to feed every person in the world.

Wow, just wow. You had to play the starving children in Africa card didn’t you? Well guess what? FUCK YOU! I’m not only going to eat my fucking meat because it’s my god damned right to do so, but I’m gonna eat half a pound of it, give the other half to my brothers dogs, and then buy sixteen pounds of grain and flush them down the drain just to piss you off. You pretentious bitch, if you actually gave a starving rats ass about starving kids in Africa, you wouldn’t be dedicating your life to protecting a bunch of fucking animals. Instead you might get off your high horse, pull your head out of your ass, and wrangle up some fucking funds to help take care of real human people instead. But that’s not going to happen, because you feel perfectly justified in your delusional little PETA bubble promoting email chains about ducklings getting their beaks chopped off and piglets getting their tails snipped off that you have completely lost all sight of the reason all that shit happens in the first place. It’s so that fucking sane people who don’t support your shitty organization can feed their families GOOD food that’s fucking HEALTHY and GOD DAMNED DELICIOUS. So frankly Christine, you and the rest of your ass hole buddies can go chew on some bark and fuck off in the forest for all I care. And the kids in Africa can read your blog and feel lucky that without all our grain they can stay beautiful and slender just like the girls in Hollywood. I for one loved Jessica’s shirt and I just so happen to agree with it.

Especially since it was clearly a euphamism for sucking dick.

The Lolipop Guild 2.0 – Less Orange, More Horny

I believe I’ve mentioned before that I dig midgets. I don’t care what you say, or how gross their weird little hands are, midgets are hot. Everyone I know who’s had sex with a midget says they are friggin’ magical creatures in the sack, probably sent by the gods to reward those men who were brave enough to try and get to know them in the biblical sense. Kind of like whoever got to taste milk for the first time. It might not immediately strike you as pure genius, but once you start gorging on mozzarella and cheesecake, and you see how much better cinnamon toast crunch tastes doused in milk as opposed to whiskey, or blood, or whatever they used before milk, you realize that juice from a cows tit might not be so nasty after all. Long story short, if you don’t think midgets are hot, you are a coward, and Zeus thinks you suck.

So what lead me up to this point? I’m glad you asked. Well any Tom, Dick, or Harry probably sees midget porn eventually. Guys, don’t lie, this is a safe zone. You’ve all seen a ton of porn, and dollars to donuts you came across a little person shacking up with a normal person at some point in your internet meanderings. Ask any fifth grader about midget porn and they will tell you, the most famous midget porn star is Bridget Powerz, or Bridget the Midget.

half the lady, but all the tang

Alright, well she may be a pioneer in her industry, and I can’t say no to tattoos and dyed hair, but seriously, in all of Gods wide creation you would think somewhere there’s a much hotter midget who’s willing to bang strangers for money. I mean come on, that’s got to be the easiest job ever, and it pays WELL! If you’re stuck with a physical disability, why the hell not? Are you afraid you’re going to look stupid? (snicker snicker) Is Bridget the best the Lollipop Guild has to pimp out? For realz? Dude, cause much like my attraction to big women, the attraction isn’t without limit. I mean, midgets are only hot if they are actually hot. You can’t just take any random midget with a freaky gremlin face and call it sexy. No way.

Once again Jerry Springer, the ultimate white trash hero, has come through for me with the hottest midget who’s ever lived. She’s a stripper, she’s an aspiring porn star, she’s a stage performer at various night clubs and metal music festivals, a real renaissance girl. I’m absolutely fascinated by this little chick, she’s cool as shit. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, without further ado, I present to you, hailing from the wilds of Columbus Ohio, Kat the midget! (massive standing ovation, fireworks, confetti, and sperm killingly loud heavy metal rock and roll guitar!!)


There’s really no need to explain why this is cool, but just in case any of you conservative religious folks out there are wondering why your pants just got tight, let me point out a few of the things that may be to blame. First of all, she has on a spiked collar. Why is this hot? Cause it fucking is, what are you retarded? Second: Billy Idol sneer. Anyone who’s waist high on average folks, half naked, and prancing around on stage in front of a bunch of drunken giants, and still has the balls to bust out a Billy Idol sneer is sexy. Third: Fishnet stockings. Any guy who doesn’t think fishnets are hot is clearly sexually incompetent, and should probably go play with his pecker until he figures out what it’s for.

Fourth: although not showcased in this particular outfit, she’s got a pot leaf tattooed on her hip. Does it get any cooler than a midget smoking pot? Honestly. Maybe like a cyborg ape-man, who follows you around and cooks you deep fried steaks filled with nacho cheese or something, and let me know when that happens in real life, cause I’ll be all over that too, but for now all we have is a midget who strips and smokes weed and loves heavy metal. (as if that’s not enough) Fifth: tattoos and multiple facial piercings. This is not a flawless indication that she’s a freak in the sack, (some women are boring no matter what they look like) but odds are, you’re at least headed in the right direction.

I can hear you now. “But Josh, you’ve shocked and offended our delicate sensibilities. You must be some kind of perv. According to the FCC and our pastor and/or priest, midgets are either children with giant heads, or demonic freaks, and neither of those should be turned into pieces of meat for you to lustfully leer at you sicko. You probably rape kittens while you worship the devil in your communist labor mill run by starved orphans!” Well that’s for me to know, and you to wonder. Cause this is the internet, and as far as I’m concerned, nobody can tell me what to do on here. I mean, do you think midgets don’t deserve a little lovin’, no pun intended? Do you? Do you think they should be put through life with not only the burden of being physically abnormal, but also confined to a lifetime of loneliness and self gratification? Do you think they should be treated any differently than normal sized folks? Not so cocky now are you? Well if they should be treated like normal folks, I’m going to try my best to get the hot ones drunk and naked, and possibly love them up, cause that’s how you’re supposed to treat women.

Anyway, Kat, if you ever read this, cause I assume you read every blog ever posted just in case someone ever mentions you, you rock the casbah, and if you ever come to Raleigh, North Carolina, I’ll be there throwing dollar bills at you.

Celebrity Crushes: Episode 3, Almost Famous

I’ve met a lot of cool people on the internet. More importantly, I’ve found a lot of really hot chicks on the internet. The internet provides a bizarre voyeuristic atmosphere where you can peek into the lives of complete strangers. And on the flip side of that coin, for the attention whore exhibitionist like myself, you can share your own life with relative impunity thanks to the anonymous nature of the webzorz. Bloggers and vloggers tend to span the full spectrum of personalities, so you can always find someone new and interesting to read or watch.

Now, some people like to watch from the shadows, never interacting. I was never content to be the voyeur. From the first time I came across this stuff I was jumping right in the middle, commenting and interacting with people from all around the world. I thought it was such a cool way to broaden my horizons. And I’ve found that generally people love the feedback. If you stick around with one site long enough you can get to know people on a level somewhere between acquaintances and real life friends. And occasionally you even get to be real friends out of it. So today I will celebrate the ladies of the web who I’ve had fun internet crushes on. Sort of like celebrities in the sense that I haven’t really met them, just watched them on screen. But also for the most part people I have interacted with personally through messages, comments, and all around digital poppy cock. (poppy not puppy you sick freaks)




Brookers: Judging by her latest video, Brookers is clearly on drugs, which I honestly suspected from the start, but it’s good to know for sure. A long ass time ago I didn’t get online much. But one day my friends showed me a website called Ask a Ninja. Through that site I found YouTube and became the cave dwelling, mouth breathing, internet addict you now know. The first person I ran across on YouTube was Brookers, and I had my first e-crush. Sure, she may not be the typical picture of pretty, and sure, she has a big ass gap in her teeth, but I think she’s cute as hell, and she makes me laugh, which not many women do. She may be half retarded, but that’s how I like em.

crazy like a fox

If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have started making videos. And if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have started blogging, and therefore not started this blog, and then your life would suck. So make her some cake or something. She ended up getting semi famous on YouTube (6,995,078 views) and Carson Daily offered her a job doing some sort of advertising crap for somebody. Anyway, that made me realize that I could make a career doing internet stuff, which I would like one day, when I grow up. The best part is, she has an even hotter sister. Two more for the spank bank! Cha-ching!


SeeVeeBee/VeeBeeLicious/RoobyJuice: Aka Sara Louise: I can’t hardly keep track of what account she has. It seems she can’t keep her filthy mind from getting her YouTube accounts deleted. Which is great, I love that she refuses to clean her subject matter up. Veebs is the sort of kick ass chick that I would be if I were a chick who kicked ass. She had one video where she was holding an egg and telling all sorts of random trivia about eggs, until she pulled it out of her sleeve, and it was really a fucking vibrator. That was kick ass. She lives in England with her ridiculously cute children and her husband. She’s the sort of free spirit that makes interacting on the internet fun. If you want to know how to get me to send you naked pictures of myself, just ask her, because she beat you to it. I can’t help it. I love big women, especially delicious ones like her. Her home is basically a zoo, with about twenty pets. Anything that you can think of that is cooler than you, she does it. For instance, she collects old surgical tools and photos of deformed folks. Unfortunately for me, she’s taken, so I guess I’ll have to love her from afar. Maybe next life Veebs.

Veebs the brunette
Veebs the pinky


Kimberleigh: Once again, a very funny chick. Apparently you have to either be dirty and badass, or funny for me to find you attractive. See, I learn new things about myself every day. Anyway, Kimberleigh has the added attraction of not only being funny and cute, but also being a total dork, and therefore in my male mind, she becomes accessible. Frankly, I don’t go for the normal chicks, never have. Sort of like Brookers, her vlogs started off being borderline sketch comedy which was heavily edited and really contained zero actual vlog content. This appeals to me because even entertaining people aren’t entertaining all the time, and as a proud member of the ADD generation, I need my entertainment to pander to my ten second attention span.

talk nerdy to kim

And what the hell, I might as well throw Paperlilies in the same entry. These two were inseparable for a while. I have no idea if they are still bff’s and send each other videos all the time like high school cheer leaders. I’m not on YouTube so much these days. But I do kind of like the idea of these two in cheer leader uniforms. (save the cheer leaders, save the web) Right-o. Well, Bryony is the other half of the power twins, and she’s British, which means one thing: sexy ass accent! Also, she’s an artist, or something, I don’t really know what the hell she does, but I know she likes to paint. All that really matters is that she’s hot and she made one of the coolest videos of all time.

See, she makes origami lillies, out of paper.




Sundry, aka Linda: Ok, so everyone who reads this blog should know that All and Sundry was the first blog I ever read. I realize it’s kind of weird for me to enjoy a blog about family life and raising kids and shit. I know this. I’m not a mother. I don’t live in Seattle. I’m not even a chick. I’m way, way, way the fuck outside her target demograph. But I really like Sundry’s sense of humor, and she is a fucking great writer. And exactly like with YouTube, I stuck around observing something I enjoyed long enough, and I decided I should have a go at it myself. Her crack cocaine belly laughs seduced me to put together words and pictures on my own. Just when I was happily sitting on my ass, I had to go and do something. Anyway, she’s the shit, plus she’s good looking. Somewhere along the line (I believe right between the husband and the way-too-much-gross-ass-info-about-pregnancy) I lost the crush, but she still makes my list because she was a big inspiration for me. If you read this Linda, thank you for rekindling my love of writing. I had almost forgot what it’s like. You da woman dawg.

lovely woman, bit of a gut though

(edit: please note Sundry is actually twelve months pregnant with triplets, not morbidly obese as you may have mistakenly assumed. And no, it’s not one of those shit weasels from Dream Catcher, I asked)


Romi: Ah, where to begin? Have I mentioned ten or twenty times yet that I like women with a sense of humor? Well I do. And Romi delivers in spades. She may not be normal, or legally sane, but she knows how to make me laugh. Between her offbeat sarcasm, and her open willingness to reveal the most embarrassing stories she has, She takes her readers on a roller coaster of love laughs and grimaces every time she posts. I can’t get enough. And talk about a spicy slice of ethnic heaven. I’ll go ahead and post the one existing picture of Romi in existence, (I can word it however repetitively and redundantly I feel like I want to word it) but in my head I always imagine she looks like baklava tastes. Perfect.

you dropped a bomb on me


And of course I saved the best for last.

Green Metropolis, aka Emerald: Of all the people I want to move around the world and stalk, Emerald is probably number one. Let’s quickly review the reasons she is kick ass. She loves animals, and her house is a menagerie. She pokes smot. She was basically cloned from rock and roll itself, constructed entirely of rocking genes. Purple hair, ’nuff said. She’s too fucking hard core for just tattoos, she’s got a fucking flower carved into her ass. With a knife. Carved. Flesh. ……. She hates people, aka the public. She’s secretary core, trust me, it’s hot. I almost forgot, her name is Emerald. That’s one of the coolest names ever. At this point, even if she had no personality or looks, she would still be pretty cool. But thanks to some miraculous gift of the internet Gods she actually does have a great personality, if she’s had her meds, and isn’t pissed. And she manages to look stunning whilst having it. Never a dull moment with Auntie em, the giant walking contradiction. She loves being a surrogate Auntie, yet doesn’t want to get married or have children. She’s got a flower scar, yet she knits. She’s Canadian, yet she’s cool. Just kidding people, only a joke. I meant she’s a vegetarian, yet she’s cool. Put down your torches and pitchforks, I was only playing about Canadia. I would go on, but I think y’all get the picture. She’s the number one most crushable chick on the net. (edit: not the anvil kind of crushable, big difference)

They were able to reattach my dong