Monthly Archives: March 2009

Angry Black Lady Chronicles: Earth Hour?

Render unto me a fucking break, already.

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Ever since Al Gore told us that we’re ruining the world, motherfuckers have been scrambling to find ways to reduce their carbon footprint and save the planet. And thus Earth Hour, the stupidest hour known to humankind was born.

First, let me say that I’m all for saving the planet. I live on the planet, so yeah, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t come over and leave your cigarette butts and shit all over the place.

And I’ll have you know that I have made a lot of sacrifices in the name of saving the planet.

I love aerosol deodorant (It’s so cold when it hits your armpit!  I love that!), but I haven’t used it since the late 80s because Greenpeace told me that every time I do, an angel loses its wings.

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GOOPing

In which Gwyneth fattens you, then shames you.

In this week’s installment of GOOP, Gwyneth continues the about-face she began last week, in which she encourages you to suddenly care about the size of your ass and stop being such a fatty. That’s right, Gwyneth called you fat. I heard her myself. But it’s okay, because she called me fat too. We’re all in this together.

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What’s Fer Dinner, Pa?

Balls, Bobby Ray. Balls.

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A bunch of nutters in the Rotary Club in Oakdale, California are serving up plates of bull testicles aka “Rocky Mountain oysters” to raise money for the Oakland Cowboy Museum.

On Monday, Rotary Club volunteers in Oakdale are going to cook up 400 pounds of bull balls and dole them out to folks crazy enough to pay $50 to eat them.

Yum?

I wonders what kind of dishes would be served at the annual Testicle Festival.  Here’s a list of delicacies I came up with:

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I Was Gonna Pay the Tax Man, But Then I Got High

Method Man Has Got Mail Like Whoa!

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In honesty is the best policy news, Method Man of Wu Tang Clan wants you to know that he ain’t broke, y’all.  He’s just too high to remember to do shit.

According to the Daily News, Mr. Man, born Clifford Smith, had his Lincoln Navigator repossessed by the man recently.  (People still drive those?  Really?).  Apparently, Meth owes $52,503 in back taxes to the New York State Department of Taxation, so on March 19, whitey showed up at Method Man’s doorstep to repo some of his shit.

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ShamWTF!?

And a Hooker Shall Lead Them

ts-shamwow-largeShamwow pimp, Vince Shlomi, was arrested for punching a stripper who was attempting to eat his tongue.

According to The Smoking Gun:

Shlomi, 44, was arrested last month on a felony battery charge following a violent confrontation with a prostitute in his South Beach hotel room. According to an arrest affidavit, Shlomi met Sasha Harris, 26, at a Miami Beach nightclub on February 7 and subsequently retired with her to his $750 room at the lavish Setai hotel. Shlomi told cops he paid Harris about $1000 in cash after she “propositioned him for straight sex.” Shlomi said that when he kissed Harris, she suddenly “bit his tongue and would not let go.” Shlomi then punched Harris several times until she released his tongue.


It’s happening, people.  The Shamwow apocalypse is nigh.  The first blow against Shamwow dominance has been dealt by a hooker.  That hooker may just be our savior.  Follow her lead and rise up against Shamwows and those who would seek to make Shamwows our overlords.  Shamwows and Shamwow warriors must be destroyed at all costs.  Feast on them.  Kill them.

Thunderdome!

Hot Space Lady Edition

Here at Thunderdome!!!, we pay close attention to your needs, wants, and desires–no matter how shameful they may be. So, in response to the abundance of closeted sci-fi enthusiasts out there, we bring you this week’s THUNDERDOME!!!:

Beverly Crusher vs. Deanna Troi

Two TNG ladies go in; only one comes out

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BEVERLY CRUSHER vs. DEANNA TROI

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Mondegreens: Tiny Dancer

Tiny Dancer, Elton John

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she’s in me, always with me, Tony Danza tiny dancer in my hand

Hold me closer Tony Danza tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today

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Lessons from Runyon Canyon and Why I Hate Exercise

ts-exerciseThe Universe Doesn’t Want Me to Exercise

I loathe exercise y’all.  I’ve been a member of a gym for two years now, and I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve actually gone.

I just don’t like it.  The smells.  The sweatiness.  The damp air. The sight of all those people pulling, lifting, stepping, biking, and running.  It’s exhausting just watching them.

It’s the biking and the running that gets me the most.  The people on those machines are so determined.  Pushing themselves as hard as they can.  You can practically hear their inner monologue: “Just one more mile, come on, you can do it!!”

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Fart Apps: Smells Like Victory

iFart, YouFart

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In legal news that stinks to high heaven, Infomedia, the developer of an iPhone application called “iFart Mobile” filed a lawsuit last month against Air-O-Matic, Inc., the creators of a competing iPhone application entitled “Pull My Finger.”

iFart is asking a federal court in Colorado to rule that iFart’s use of the phrase “pull my finger” does not infringe upon any valid trademark rights held by the makers of the iPhone app Pull My Finger.

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