Eminem: Irrelevant

But you're talking about him! Booyah I am, problem? I also have a sweatshop filled with Malaysian kids in both my attic and basement, yet I complain about the expensive prices of overseas cloth goods regardless of their cost to produce. So eat me.

You might remember Eminem as that guy who made is career saying "faggot" while giving reacharounds to Dr. Dre in the late 90's and early 00's. Zeroes. Ohsies? Nullies? Whatever, he's this dude:

Or this dude:

Being that the trend with rappers  entrepreneurs  Jewish people assholes nowadays is to hawk:

• Shitty sneakers
• Shitty cars
• Shitty soft drinks
• Shitty alcohol
• Shitty clothes
• Shitty cigars

I feel justified in saying, Jesus Christ. Could you be anymore of a stooge? I've got nothing against capitalism, hell look at Rage Against the Machine, but would the angry, irascible, "don't give a fuck" Eminem of 1999 look at the Brisk double-fisting, Chrysler driving, corporate douche bag Eminem of 2011 and be like: Damn, that faggot dude is still so real. I'm not sure either, let's consult one of his later pieces "Not Afraid":

You can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay 'em
But you won't take this thing out these words before I say 'em
Cause ain't no way I'm let you stop me from causing mayhem
When I say 'em or do something I do it, I don't give a damn
What you think, I'm doing this for me, so fuck the world
Feed it beans, it's gassed up, if a thing's stopping me
I'mma be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedly
And all those who look down on me I'm tearing down your balcony

He needs more stuff on his head in this picture. Anyways, his music is pretty shitty and I find his voice to be particularly grating. I think he's trying to nickel and dime his last few moments of popularity before writing a tell-all about working in the industry, making it big, and remaining true to yourself. Good luck with that. Faggot.

Two And a Half Men Cancelled - Rejoice!

Mind you, it's only cancelled for this season, but hell I haven't been this happy since I caught that little Vietnamese kid wandering off my property in the middle of the night. Note to self: stop naming your prisoners nouns, stick to numbers!

Anywho, excitement is contained herein:

As Two And A Half Men star Charlie Sheen's erratic behavior escalated today in a series of verbal assaults on the show's co-creator-executive producer Chuck Lorre, the sitcom's network and studio did the only thing they could in the situation: pull the plug.  But they only did it for this season. (Two and a Half Men was scheduled to resume production on Monday for 4 more episodes). So the door is left open for a possible ninth season. "Based on the totality of Charlie Sheen’s statements, conduct and condition, CBS and Warner Bros TV have decided to discontinue production of Two and a Half Men for the remainder of the season," the two companies said in a statement.

Then the article goes on to recount his incidents involving some dopey hooker/porn star, his drugs and violence and overall downward spiral. That's right baby, downward spiral; the two magic words every culture-icon hater like myself loves to hear. It has such a devilish ring in it: downward spiral.

If you've never seen Two And a Half Stupid Douchebags before, it stars Jon Cryer (who?) and Charlie Sheen (who?) and some fat kid and -

Look, I really don't feel like explaining what the premise of this aggressively mediocre show is, so I'll explain the humor to you in a series of pictures that only you can relate to - because you're an idiot:

Ugh. You get the fucking picture. A platoon of writers couldn't save this show (see also: SNL). And by "save" I mean shit-can. For once I can actually thank Charlie Sheen for something rather than looking to his father to somehow redeem him. How can a talented actor spawn such a massive pile of diarrhea? It's like Martin Sheen's wife had Emilio out of the womb and Charlie out of the asshole. Anyway, let's keep our fingers crossed that Jon Cryer shrinks back into obscurity, Charlie Sheen has a thrombotic heart attack, and I finally get into the business of white slavery. I'm thinking I have a unique perspective!

Lady Caca

It pains me to do this, as it just gives this endlessly untalented harpy more attention than she deserves, but I care about you guys. And I'm only looking out for you*.

Lady Gaga wants you to know that she "exists halfway between fantasy and reality":

“Yes, and I thought to myself, "Gosh, the thing I hate most about doing award shows is, it can be  distracting"... I want to exist only for my fans and for the stage,” she went on. “I don't want to exist in this machine or this circus that is the industry. I wish I could be encapsulated for three days and just think only about my performance, think only about the album, think only about the future of my fans. So that's what I did.”

Despite her elaborate getups, the singer insisted, “Gaga is not manufactured . . . it is not artificial. I wish I could give that gift to everyone on the planet--the ability for you to create an idea and perceive of something, whether it be a name or a vision for yourself, and just choose to become it. The world, and I base this on the music industry, is obsessed with artists and glamour and creativity and fashion. And artistry has become something that people believe is artificial. For myself, it is my reality. I exist at all times halfway between reality and fantasy. That's the way I was born.”

Yeah, we get it Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta Pollo Alla Cacciatore (really with this name?), you're unique and ironic and fantastical. And we love you for it. Here's Stefani Joanna Angelina Germanotta defiling an episode of The Sopranos:

Cigarettes and a 20 oz. of Coke? Damn girl, you walk a fine line. Flash forward a few years and she transforms herself into the empty shell of a pop star we have today. We've been gifted with her golden pipes, and evolving, original sense of fashion the likes of which we've never -

Ahem. I said the likes of which we've never -

 Dude. Stop. I'm trying to make a point. As I was saying, we've been gifted with her golden pipes and evolving, original sense of fashion the likes of which we've -

Ugh, fuck it. Here's the deal Stefani Joanna Angelina Germanotta, you are a part of the machine and the circus. You contribute to the never ending stream of trash that besmirches my precious ears in crappy bars across the United States. What, so she adorns her hermaphroditic husk in pointy objects, swims around in makeup for three hours and spends more time layering vocal tracks on her albums than actually singing them, and we're all supposed to be so grateful and so enamored by it? Christ.

People actually spend time discussing whether her recent single "Born This Way" (with a cock?) is a ripoff of Madonna's "Express Yourself" without first stepping back and looking at the big picture:

Look, if you like her music and you like her sense of fashion and you sincerely think she isn't fucking fooling all of you and laughing all the way to the bank, then maybe you too "exist halfway between reality and fantasy". Either way, fuck off. I'm going to resume listening to my Tears for Fears discography. Mm...yeah.

*(But not really though).

A Moist Introduction

Maybe I did this out of order, but I wanted to get a few posts in to get a feel for the site, and for my new underpants. So here's a quick video explaining what this thought-receptacle's purpose is, featuring some new talent!

Bieber Gets Shot/Bieber Gets Shot in Dubstep!

Money:

Big baller:

Does life get any sweeter than in these precious few minutes? Well for me, yes (Sesame Street is on). But not for you. Enjoy.

Four Americans Killed By Somali Pirates And Scurvy, But Mostly By Somali Pirates

I'm getting further into my twenties now, and more and more I find myself enraptured by the thought of traveling abroad, primarily aboard a sea vessel of sorts. There are three places for which I yearn to see in such a manner: Fishing for marlin off of Florida, the slight, salty taste of the sea breeze tickling my tongue; taking a historic trip around the Mediterranean Sea, touching the paths of forlorn armies from days gone by; and finally, heading on over to the Indian Ocean, boarding a yacht with several pious white people and launching bibles out of T-shirt cannons onto the Somali people, who likely can't even read.

Needless to say, after this week's news I had to visit my travel agent to pick up some much needed life insurance for my trip. And hand-to-hand combat training:

Bible distributors who were taken hostage by Somali pirates were killed while negotiations between the pirates and U.S. military forces were underway Tuesday morning.

U.S. forces boarded the yacht in response to gunfire, and discovered that four hostages had been shot. Two of the pirates were killed, and 13 captured in a confrontation, according to a statement from U.S. Central Command. Scott and Jean Adam's vessel Quest was taken hostage. 

(...) 

The couple had been distributing copies of Scripture, including "Catholic Bibles" from the American Bible Society and NIV Bibles from the International Bible Society, to places like Tahiti, New Zealand, and Fiji. "Because Catholics have a slightly different Bible than Protestants we carry both Bibles, and at several different reading levels," they wrote on their website.

Hey, know what was probably going on at the time in Fiji?

How about in Tahiti?

New Zealand*?

Nice! How about Somalia?

Oh. Funny note: these are the actual first page image results for these places. Better call up that travel agent and have her renew my gun license - and drop that sexual harassment charge. Seriously, that was three years ago! I didn't know butter shouldn't be used that way. You totally wanted it. Sorry, I undress. I mean digress.

Look, I'm not a really religious guy. But something tells me this isn't the kinda shit you wanna be doing to spread the word of your (g)God(s). You wanna give succor to these fucking savages? Drop a few BLU-82s, build a McDonald's or two (thousand) and make me president dictator. We can fret about this religious shit later, we have a Dollar Menu to discuss.

*Alright, so there was an earthquake there. Whatever, stop ruining my point. My blog, eat shit.

What Happened Here?

Quick question.

Stay with me, the question is coming.

Exactly. That's the question, just so you're aware. Because if you weren't, you're dumb. I remember first seeing Nikki Cox peer up at a T-1000, telling Robert Patrick whether or not she's "seen this boy". Check your facts. I knew it was love at first sight. She had appeared on a string of aggressively shitty WB shows (with the frog in blackface) and probably popped up on a Lifetime movie or two. After that she slowly faded into obscurity, rearranged various elements of her face, and rekindled her relationship with another T-1000:

Cool dog.