I Have Never Knowingly Taken Steriods. Part 3 Fabio gets massive
Hey fella, nice speedos you got on there.
Your cup runneth over.
Yours, while realising that if one of us goes missing, heaven forbid, then the king’s forces will be diminished.
Righteous
p.s. I have survived long enough to realise that I have become an era.
Finding Christopher Walken’s equilibrium
Christopher Walken performs Lady Gaga’s modern classic ‘Poker Face’ as it was surely originally intended – as a spoken word piece:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2guQYivZ6w&feature=PlayList&p=B1C1A2FFD35FB657&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=80
I think my water broke while listening to that.
Yours, while inventing a credibly grim scenario for our future where most of the earth’s inhabitants are infected with a deadly virus and roam aimlessly in fetid cities while the moon bleeds, and Christopher Walken reads the voiceover.
Righteous
p.s. Jesus loves porn stars, but the majority of porn stars don’t love Jesus.
Under Dr Phil’s intoxicating spell
Since I take all my life lessons from Dr Phil, I decided to do some research to find out what makes him tick.
Dr Phil “Dr Phil” McGraw holds a doctoral degree in psychology, he is not licensed as a psychologist or a mental health practitioner in any state.
Once upon a time, McGraw really was licensed as a clinical psychologist. But in 1989, the Texas board that licenses psychologists disciplined him for an inappropriate “dual relationship” with a 19-year-old patient. (McGraw denies the young woman’s claim that the relationship was sexual.) He was ordered to take an ethics class and have his practice supervised for a year.
Since McGraw is a celebrity icon rather than a licensed professional, he is not governed by any code of medical ethics or by the state and federal rules and regulations that apply to licensed clinical psychologists.
Interestingly, ‘Get real’ is his catch phrase.
If you want to clean your metaphorical cock on this blog Dr Phil, at least bring some original ideas to the table.
But you do look very manly in your hall of mirrors.
You light my fire.
Yours, while listening to Dr Phil’s voice drone on – hypnotic and soporific – making the gloom beyond the windows like the backdrop of a waking dream.
Righteous
p.s. Thousands of people have talent. The one and only thing I have is staying power. When I can be bothered.
Are you there Tom?. It’s me L. Ron Hubbard, with some Xmas ideas.
Spread some Christmas crazy with the Scientology Holiday Catalogue.
http://orgsaroundtheworld.wordpress.com/2008/11/11/2008-scientology-dianetics-holiday-catalog/
“In celebration of the Golden Age of Knowledge for Eternity, this year’s catalog includes special holiday packages, so you can bring the gift of Source to yourself, your family, friends and associates. Within these pages are materials you need for your journey on the road to truth. From the spectacular editions of the Beginning Books and Audiobooks through The Basics and Congresses, these truths have inspired, enlightened and changed the lives of millions”
Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy.
This holiday season, I’ll be getting frisky and give myself and those I hate the gift of sweet, spicy irony wrapped in a pretty bow while watching for the puffs of white and black smoke from the chimney atop of hypocracy hill.
With so much crazy, Scientology is the gift that keeps on giving.
Hey friend, let the wild rumpus start.
Yours, while being toilet trained at gunpoint.
Righteous
p.s. I am not the Messiah, I am just a very geeky boy-toy who thinks Scientology is the religious equivalent of Woody Allen post ‘Manhattan’.
Spread some Christmas crazy with the Scientology Holiday Catalog. A million thank yous to the reader who mailed me the Dianetics & Scientology Holiday catalog! With so much crazytown inside, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.
The full Boony
The man in charge of Foster’s multimillion dollar sponsorship budget said that the group’s award winning talking VB Boony Doll had ”normalised binge drinking”.
Speaking at the national conference of Sponsorship Australasia, Chris Maxwell, national sponsorship manager for Fosters Group, called on the whole industry to work together to promote responsible alcohol marketing to fend off prohibitive legislation.
The talking Boony doll was a caricature of the cricketer David Boon.
Along with a Beefy doll representing Ian Botham, the dolls had implanted sound chips which were triggered by TV coverage of the cricket.
One of Boon’s claims to notoriety was consuming 52 cans of beer on a flight from Sydney to London before the 1989 Ashes.
This is all well and good, but the more I drink, and the more I get to know men, the more I find myself loving the Boony doll.
Yours, while playing with melodramatic themes, but putting aside the temptation to scream or otherwise let the emotions take over.
Righteous
p.s. If you you’ve seen a one trick pony – you’ve seen me
I Have Never Knowingly Taken Steriods. Part 2
Those bamboozled into believing palpable untruths that are recognized as such by the larger community are likely, in time, to develop an attitude of resentment and outright paranoia rather than self-esteem.
But steriods are the stuff men’s dreams are made of.
Yours, while watching my still-twitching credibility being staked out on an ant-bed of vicious rumour and emotional in-fighting.
Righteous
p.s. I speak as I feel, without reserve or softening, and my main themes are bitter and truculent when I’m excited.
The Annals of Arrogance. An idiots guide to George W Bush
Robert Maranto and Richard E. Redding have written “Judging Bush” – just out from Stanford University Press .
A few quotes and a sense of the argument……
SAT scores and other available measures indicate that Bush had sufficient intelligence to serve as president.
Bush scored a 1200 on the SAT (roughly equaling 1300 on today’s re-normed SAT), placing him in the top 16% of all college applicants.
He had better grades than the smarter-seeming John Kerry.
The authors also peg the best estimate of Bush’s IQ at 120-125, in the top 10% of the population and above average for a college graduate — about the same as estimated for Eisenhower and Ford.
The leading personality theory (the “5-Factor Model”), as measured by the NEO Personality Inventory, suggests that Bush is highly extraverted but not very agreeable or conscientious.
They suggest that Bush lacks integrative complexity and thus views issues without nuance.
The problem with Bush’s leadership style was never lack of intelligence. It was something much closer to intellectual laziness or lack of curiosity.
In summary of the president’s personality, the authors write, “Bush is an extraverted, domineering, and somewhat adventurous and impulsive individual, lacking in conscientiousness, who is intelligent but relatively superficial and unreflective.”
I ask whether retrospective impeachment based on personailty flaws could become another arrow in the quiver of the Democrat warrior class?
With spirit I join the debate, at times ugly and vicious, about the historicity and legitimacy of the Bush reign.
Yours, while being hired as God’s ghostwriter for the 2010 edition of The Bible. He doesn’t pay very well.
Righteous
p.s. I am a man’s man – a belief I have come to since I have been told numerous times that I am not a ladies man.
Memo to Miley Cyrus from Kanye West……..yo Miley, Beyonce had the best album of last year. Memo to Kanye West from Miley….fuck off idiot
Even her fellow teens and tweens are sick of Miley Cyrus’ slanty-eyed pictures and pole dancing hijinks.
The Disney starlet was voted Worst Celebrity Influence of 2009, winning out over drunk-driving Shia LaBeouf, racy-photo-posing Vanessa Hudgens, Taylor-Swift-interrupting Kanye West, and the self-explanatory Britney Spears.
So, it’s not alright to be tight with Miley anymore?
Doesn’t look like it will be a white wedding and white picket fence forever future for us then.
My celebrity friendships are marked by constant diligence, suffocating attention, unremitting praise and persistent payments to their minders.
Yours, while moving in a clumsy manner with heavy feet.
Righteous
p.s. I would love you even if you were incontinent Miley
An intellectual policeman is like an ocean breeze in the outback
Here is an extract from one of the case notes of complaints against NT police documented in the 2008-2009 annual report to the local Parliament by the NT Ombudsman.
The Ombudsman’s case note detailed the treatment by NT Police at an unnamed station to “a complainant who was taken into custody for breaking and entering, and who had subsequently fallen asleep outside the premises, due to being highly intoxicated, and who was arrested at the scene.”
Even before he made it to the cells he was getting the full benefit of the cop’s limited vocabulary:
“The complainant could be heard mumbling something whilst he was seated on the bench, although it was not discernable as to what was said. One of the attending officers responded with “shut your face”. Further comments made to or about the complainant within the next 30 minutes included “dumb fuck”, “fucking loser”, “dickhead over there”, “fucking retard”.
“In addition to the inappropriate comments identified above the duty officer was heard and observed making the following statements to or about the complainant:
“stupid fucking idiot”
“make things quite clear, … if you wanna fuckin’ play up I’ll make things hard for you”
“God, he fucking stinks”
Two officers were joking about the complainant hitting his head against the cell door because he wasn’t given a blanket. One officer stating that the complainant had said he would jump in the air and land on his head killing himself. The officer then stating “go ahead, do it”. The other officer stating “make sure you do it in front of the cameras”.
After the officer established that the complainant was dialling his wife, against whom he had a domestic violence order, the officer said “get back in your fucking cell you spastic” “you’ve got a domestic violence order that says you are not allowed to contact her, you fucking wanker.
I have always enjoyed familiar talk with the local constabulary. Easy, unrestrained, unceremonious conversation is the hallmark of good communication, and shooting the breeze about sports, neighborhood scuttlebutt, off-color jokes exposed me to their finer use of the English language.
My stay in jail lasting but a short, fleeting time, but my vocabulary increased measurably, certainly much more than 12 years of schooling.
The white majority have no reason to feel like they will be dispossessed when the revolution starts.
Yours, while realising consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative
Righteous
p.s. Lizards are patrolling the landscape, and giant tortoises are galumphing on the beaches. My dreams have turned into a David Lynch/Richard Attenborough co-production.
I have never knowingly taken steroids. Nope. No way. Part 1
Like the wide margins publishers use to eke out a skimpy text, and which make the novel seem bigger than it is, bodybuilding is like the prodigious footnotes that get in the way of what is, basically, a simple parable.
Man, them’s some quads.
Yours, while getting what you’re trying to achieve. Actually. No, I don’t. But I like it.
Righteous
p.s. It pays to look around, just to see who might be in harm’s way when the pieces start to fly
Refreshed. Refined. But engulfed in flames. Again
Former Biggest Loser host Ajay Rochester has threatened to sue Woman’s Day.
Rochester, who once weighed 140kg and now claims to weigh 53kg, sold the story of her weight loss to rival magazine New Idea.
She posed in a hot pink bikini showing her new body on the cover of the magazine last week, but unflattering pictures of her stomach were published in Woman’s Day.
The article said the 40-year-old has “stretch marks” and “baggy skin” as a result of her massive weight loss and published pictures that highlighted her imperfections.
The story is in stark contrast to the glamorous pictures that appeared in New Idea of Rochester pool-side in LA sporting a flat, toned stomach and a movie-star blonde mane.
In May this year she said that she was going to Hollywood to meet Oprah.
“I’m totally going to stalk her,” she said “I created this whole website, I’m going to stalk celebrities in Hollywood and interview them online.”
Rochester is no stranger to controversy — in November she pleaded guilty to 23 fraud-related charges after admitting she incorrectly collected single parent payments from Centrelink.
Firstly, Ajay, you should stop licking on slurpees, because your face seems to have become frozen.
And also – were you the whole audience for The Jerry Springer Show when you were fat?
However, on your behalf, I have dialled ‘O’ for outrage I am so pevved by Woman’s Day.
How dare they show photos that are contrary to your carefully crafted PR strategy, for which you would have paid some hack thousands of dollars – and which is crucial to your pathetic TV career
Do they have no shame?
How ignoble.
Yours, while wondering if that is a dog whistle in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me.
Righteous
p.s. Scientists have produced a new Viagra for women. It’s called jewellery
Who’s a pretty boy then?
In a preview of minor happenings, the “Hottest Heads of State” poll has been completed – and PM Kevin Rudd has been ranked number 93 on the list of sexiest world leaders, one place lower than the Prime Minister of the Bahamas Hubert Ingraham and just ahead of Romania’s Emil Boc.
Topping the list is Yulia Tymoshenko Prime Minister of Ukraine with Jens Stoltenberg, Prime Minister of Norway, in second place and Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, the King of Bhutan, in third.
Backed by soaring sax and energetic percussion, I celebrate Kevin’s success in this poll, and also his fleshy pink color, womanly manly curves and his train wreck gracefulness with some celebratory Spanish party music and warm weather cocktails.
Yours, while being exposed by my enemies to contempt and shame by false statements and misrepresentation, but I am still devoted and attentive to them and their neo-primitive humour
Righteous
p.s. The world is downcast and dog eared, and anger is all the rage
Pink bits: the absurd world of gender curious celebrity fashion
Critics rip Lindsay Lohan’s fashion collection to shreds.
Lindsay Lohan and Spanish designer Estrella Archs showed off their collaborative Spring 2010 collection in Paris.
And the Fashion World’s Mean Girls could simply not stop ragging on how bad it was.
There were the heart-shaped pasties. …
‘It’s not good to show your nipples, so they should be covered,’ Lohan wisely said, referring to the omnipresent heart-shaped pasties. This did not explain why some models wore larger versions of the heart-shaped pasties on their foreheads.
Womens Wear Daily called the collection “an “embarrassment,” among other things.
“The clothes looked cheesy and dated. Hot pink, orange and flashy, with an overworked heart motif relentless in its execution, the collection displayed none of the promised younger side Lohan was supposed to deliver.
Backstage, Lindsay admitted the brightly colored collection was a rush job.
Hmmmm.
Personally, blatant symbolism combined with outrageous bad taste is, for me, a special pipeline into high-level alarming psychological condition of celebrities suffering from delusions of grandeur.
I have been reduced to a bad case of quivering agoraphobia, but I am wearing heart shaped pasties.
Yours, while being smarter than everyone else put together, smarter than my boss, than the people at the bank, than anyone in your family or mine.
Righteous
p.s. I like to elicit confabulations rather than actual memories to construct my world view and self image.
If this boat is a-rockin, don’t come a-knockin
This is an image of ship tracks off the west coast of the US captured by NASA’s Terra satellite on October 5.
These are different in composition, and larger and more enduring than jet contrails.
First recognised as being formed by the exhaust plumes of ships in 1965, they are now being seen by some researchers as one of the major causes of global warming.
Ship tracks cool the atmosphere by blocking incoming solar radiation … good … and inhibit rainfall … bad, very bad.
Ships burn heavy-grade marine diesel fuels that emit sulphur dioxide and have in studies been seen as adding to the load of industrially released sulphate aerosols that characterise the skies over China, India and other areas of major metal smelting and manufacturing activity.
This makes for tense reading, since I long for the old days of trans-atlantic sea voyages – but then again, those journeys mainly amounted to wishful foraging of old rich widows with whom I could become intimate, thereby ensuring I would never have to work again.
You know you want it baby.
Yours, while receiving praise as a poet, but this may have been from the mouths of sycophants hungry for patronage.
Righteous
p.s. It’s hard being the only Jew in the village
The Write Stuff
Here is what then White House speech writer William Safire actually wrote for US President Richard Nixon in 1969 as a contingency should disaster befall Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the surface of the moon.
Notice the lack of detail, but the openness of the writing – designed to let the memory fill in the gaps with what would have been remembered of the disaster.
“THE BE READ BY PRESIDENT IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER:
Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.
These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice.
These two men are laying down their lives in mankind’s most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding.
They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by the nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown.
In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.
In ancient days, men looked at the stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.
Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man’s search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts.
For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.
PRIOR TO THE PRESIDENT’S STATEMENT:
The President should telephone each of the widows-to-be.
AFTER THE PRESIDENT’S STATEMENT, AT THE POINT WHEN NASA ENDS COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE MEN:
A clergyman should adopt the same procedure as a burial at sea, commending their souls to “the deepest of the deep,” concluding with the Lord’s Prayer”
Lays it on thick, but so real its unreal.
Yours, while building fantasies and traumas that fit into my grand narrative scheme.
Righteous
p.s. I am responsible for extraordinary pranks in ordinary places, but I am still gloomy and sullen in disposition.
Local writer puts in his two bob’s worth. Coins are rejected. Has to go without Mars Bar.
Which modern book has most shaped world literature the most?
Gabriel García Márquez’s seminal novel ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ is the piece of writing that has most shaped world literature over the past 25 years, according to a survey of international writers
Barack Obama’s memoir, Dreams from My Father, also makes an appearance on the list.
Salman Rushdie made the list twice, for The Satanic Verses and Midnight’s Children, while VS Naipaul was nominated for A House for Mr Biswas, Ben Okri for The Famished Road and JM Coetzee for Disgrace.
This is all very well, but books full of wild talk about decadence and beauty should be banned.
Who needs books.
Go listen to the preacher.
That’s all I ever needed.
Books are written in the optimistic belief that open debate beats scuttlebutt – but really, they just cause deep, dark currents of fear amongst my subjects. Furthermore, the plebians, not knowing how to interpret certain facts and figures correctly, may end up vilifying the ruling class for becoming fat off the sweat of the unfortunates.
That never ends well, and must be avoided at all costs.
Get that agony off your face peasant!
Yours, while looking with a aesthetes eye at the wild modernist innovations of 1920’s interior design, which has been slowly dissipated by a new gospel of icy austerity and self-control.
Righteous
p.s. The more I scrub it, the more it bleeds. Life is becoming monochrome before my eyes. I think I am metaphorically bleeding to death and am regressing through the colour spectrum.
This is not a game of who the fuck are you
Eddie Izzard is a two-time Emmy winning British stand-up comedian and actor.
He is also known for his transvestism.
Izzard describes himself as an “underground” transvestite, rather than a “weirdo” transvestite (he cites J. Edgar Hoover and Hermann Göring as examples of the latter)
His comedy style is expressed in rambling, whimsical monologue and self-referential pantomime, heavily influenced by Monty Python, especially in his use of a stream-of-consciousness delivery that jumps between topics as he free associates on stage.
He does not generally work from a script, owing to his dyslexia.
Instead, he interrupts himself with new joke ideas, the characters he portrays turn into other characters, and he nonchalantly leaps from historical analysis to musings about household appliances.
This often results in brief pauses in the routine which he fills with ’so, yeah,’ and other verbal tics that have become his trademarks.
Although this clip is old, it is Eddy Izzard at his finest
Death by tray it shall be.
Yours, while jumping about like a parrot on ritalin
Righteous
p.s. I will always defend my basic right to fight and kick and scream like a girly man, while refusing to get my act together.
Remember, some were born with it…….the silver spoon I mean
News alert: Prince Phillip enraged by remote controls.
The Duke of Edinburgh has launched a scathing attack on the design of television remotes and controls.
The famously outspoken Duke, 88, criticised designers for making handsets small and complicated and for hiding controls on television sets.
He said: “To work out how to operate a TV set you practically have to make love to the thing. And why can’t you have a handset that people who are not 10 years old can actually read.’
I would like to present an energetic defense of the Prince.
Half a century later, I still remember the good old days . . . how the royal family all played together without distinctions or hierarchy, and how easily Phillip related to people from different social and cultural milieux……..all the while undertaking his nocturnal studies by candlelight – oblivious to criticism, change or interference.
These are unspeckled memories, which I do not treat with contempt or disregard.
Yours, while being a put upon working class cog……who is suffering from the usual pulling of emotional raw nerves.
Righteous
p.s. This blog outsells the Bible.
p.p.s Somewhere……….a Christian’s head just exploded.
How to become an Olympian: part 2, landing helicopters with a half pike and a twist
12 people have been killed and a helicopter has been shot down in fierce clashes between drug gangs and police in Rio de Janeiro, weeks after the city won its bid to host the 2016 Olympics.
Two policemen were killed and two others were wounded early on Saturday when their helicopter was shot down by drug traffickers in a day of running battles in the slums of northern Rio.
Nine buses were also set on fire in surrounding neighbourhoods in retaliation for a police operation aimed at controlling heavy gun battles between rival drug gangs in the area.
Some 6,000 people were murdered in Rio in 2008 alone.
Fucking peoples shit up will replace ping pong for the Rio Olympics.
Not sporting sir.
Vaya con dios.
Yours, while giving away free fairy tales that predict next weeks winning Lotto numbers
Righteous
p.s. what you can’t smell WILL kill you.
12 die as drug gangs down chopper in Rio
When a moral posture takes on a slouch
News from the Northern Territory
No oral sex, says ute crash waitress.
A woman accused of performing a sexual act on a man when he crashed in Darwin’s rural area is outraged at the allegation and says it is “absolutely wrong”.
Allyson White said the burn mark left by her seatbelt across her chest was proof the claims of “amorous activities” with the driver were not true.
“I was not sucking his dick – and it’s pretty obvious that wasn’t the case … you only have to look at the mark on my chest,” she said.
“Clearly I had my seatbelt on, so it’s impossible that I’d be leaning over sucking his dick unless he is hung like a donkey or I’ve got a fucking rubber neck”
Well, that’s good to know, because I thought you could show someone from the Northern Territory a stupid risk, and they would take it.
Yours, while becoming an invisible snarling dog with unknown intentions, even if, in the right context, the dog itself would be innocuous.
Righteous
p.s. All you need to write a blog is a gun and a girl.
She didn’t say no. She just didn’t say yes. But I think she nodded
Reports surfaced today of a very strange lawsuit filed in Los Angeles Superior Court against Dr. Phil McGraw.
The lawsuit includes many claims, but most notable are false imprisonment, practicing without a license and indecent exposure.
Shirley Rae Dieu, 56, of Irvine, Calif., claims she was seeking therapy from Dr. Phil in his Hollywood office in 2007 when she allegedly was held captive and “forced to be in the same room with a completely live naked man while he exposed his entire naked body, genitals and all,” according to her filing.
Dieu further alleges she was deprived of sleep and food, “brainwashed” and “subjected to edited tapings depicting her as a different personality other than her own.”
Yours, while closing my eyes and summoning the fond smells of childhood . . . and the aroma that fills the nostrils of my memory is the sulfurous, protein-dissolving fetor of Nair.
Righteous
p.s. I worked in the make-up department on Dr Phil’s show, and would sit in the wings during rehearsals, ready to dart forward and titivate Dr Phil’s hair when required.
If these scrawls could talk, would they add up to 13?
triskaidekaphobia \tris-ky-dek-uh-FOH-bee-uh\, noun: fear or a phobia concerning the number 13.
The Apollo 13 mission, launched on April 11, 1970 (the sum of 4, 11 and 70 equals 85 – which when added together comes to 13), from Pad 39 (three times 13) at 13:13 local time, was struck by an explosion on April 13.
Bah humbug. Numbers. You can make them say anything.
When it’s time to pay the piper, it’s time………..
Yours, while sharing the pain, but also sharing the fame
Righteous
p.s. I just got told I’ve got a weird shaped head.
The wingnut right leads with its chin. Again. And again. And again
So far, the far right have called Barack Obama….
Terrorist, Hitler, Communist, Fascist, Marxist, Socialist, Appeaser, Kenyan, Muslim, Egotist.
They’re right. Except they’re not.
He is clearly a dangerous individual – but what they miss is that he is really a polygamist, homosexual, criminal, bourgeois Santa Claus disguised as the Easter Bunny who is prostitute drug dealing pole dancer monopolist bra burning tax dodger chinaman crack whore spongebob who puts furry ferrets in his ears while having devil worshiping child sacrificing sex with autistic Llamas while smoking the White House lawn.
For people who call themselves the far right, how come they can’t get anything right?
Especially something so obvious.
Yours, while confusing the difference between reality and chatter, but you like it right?
Righteous
p.s. do mothers of ugly babies think their ugly baby is ugly?
If I were a drug dealer…would you come for dinner anyway?
The global economy has flirted with The End, but one narrow window of the economy has continued to give life meaning and cash inflows.
Drugs.
Ker-ching
And drug dealers have no need to embrace post recession sobriety.
The greased-back hair, always astride their outlaw motorbike, decked out in Marlon Brando T-shirt, Fonzie inspired fear and envy, and the swooning coke whores……
We take all this for granted.
But these illiterate but formal, socially awkward, tactless, boorish and awkward individuals – who find themselves developing flourishing piles of ready cashflow – and have a constant need to spruce themselves up – have now turned their dishonest bastardry of taste and gaucherie to a new field of endeavor – and have given birth to a new word, and a new style of architecture………….
Narco-tecture: houses built by drug lords with excessive cash that needs to find a home
And these folks are not crazed heritage listers.
The style of Narco-tecture is incoherent and dizzingly busy – homes that are decorative additions to their owners appendage-o-meter, capable of housing machine gun toting posse power, clumsy, costly, having all the style of a Junkyard Vegas.
Finally, below average architectects – who don’t find having a client who constantly says ‘Not enough’ an artistic burden, and who get deliberately ambiguous instructions which are unclear in order to mislead authorities, and have clients who avoid committing themselves to anything definite in case the shit goes down – are finally being fully utilised.
And who said no-one profited from this recession.
Yours, while making it my consolation to upset everyone I meet, but The Jonas brothers still want their underwear back
Righteous
p.s. The day after my birthday is not my birthday Dad
Mirror mirror on the wall. Who’s the most massive of all
You want dangerous ideas.
Here is a dangerous idea.
The festival of the man-gina, better known as bodybuilding, as a piece of fruit metaphor………..
The body reconstructionists take the most luscious and delicious apple and show it to a hungry person, and then they seal the fruit with plastic wrap and demand that the observer enjoy its flavour, while reading a Dickersonian novel of 100 chapters – of which 90 chapters are redundant.
Mr Olympia Jay Cutler on stage video
Yeah baby. I’m coming along for the ride with the ringleader.
Yours, while appearing to have gone a little mad, so I’m off to the Gargoyle Club. . . .
Righteous
p.s. No last minute homeboys, you have to have been there from the start.
Robots, we must talk
Robots make cars
Robots vacuum your house
Robots build space stations
Robots pick products in warehouses
Robots can fly drones
Robots can drive farm machinery.
So, with regard to my most hated household chore………..
How come no-one has invented a robot that can put a doona cover on a doona?
Yours, while understanding that those who think they know everything annoy those of us who do
Righteous
p.s. If I had known I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself
The fundamental inelegance of the theory of intelligent design
Righteous: What’s up Flossie?
Doggie: I’m teaching myself to be self sufficient.
Righteous: Unsuccessfully I see. How did the French Bulldog survive natural selection?
Doggie: I don’t know. I think God should have punted us…
The puppy that couldn’t get up video
Yours, while being nostalgic for privacy in the Facebook Age
Righteous
p.s. Have you ever been told you look like a llama?
……and then I started imagining President Obama dressed in leather, and that opened the stupid floodgates
I thought it well to acquaint myself with the latest socio-economic thinking on pot, so as not to write a post that would embarrass me among the literary cognoscenti (again).
And this is what I discovered.
In California, there are now more medical marijuana clubs than Starbucks.
There are 186 medical marijuana clubs
There are 168 Starbucks.
And this all happened on Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger’s watch.
As Bill Maher says – while no-one was looking, Los Angeles basically legalised weed.
Yours, while enjoying an evening of burlesque blah blah – and I have become somewhat of a zealot.
Righteous
p.s. I have started wearing a black eye patch, and some have said it has given me the raffish look of an amiable marxist communist pirate.
Sizing up Valentino’s privates
“Enkidu was seduced by gradual steps to embrace the refinements of civilization, only to regret on his deathbed what he had left behind: a free life cavorting with gazelles”.
– Yi-Fu Tuan, Escapism
There is no denying you are fabulous dahling, but ‘Valentino: The Last Emperor‘ is as entertaining as a free life cavorting with gazelles (whatever that means).
I can scarcely bring myself to write this post, much less write Valentino a love letter for his indulgent, tired, lethargic and constipated movie of his life.
Here we see the insecure & attractive women who have found someone even more insecure than themselves, but with a talent for servicing their need to feel like the belle of the ball.
Besides being one of the world’s leading haute couture fashion designers for the last 45 years, Valentino seems to be a confused mixture of difficult personality and hyper-freak, living in a world where no-one knows how to act like a grown-up. This film requires you to abandon girlish concerns about climate change for the real business of dishing out frocks and being impressed with what some people can do with some thread, a needle and two car tyres.
I’m sure loads of women, old and young, will get all frothy over Valentino: The Last Emperor, and it probably represents a giant leap forward for frock-kind – but several times I wanted to chop my whole body off to escape my eyes while having this movie inflicted on me – frustrated by the pointlessness of trying to attach some meaning to the constant going down dark narrative alleys and never returning.
In the socially fluid and (until the crash of 2009) economically expansive year of 2009, watching stupidly rich women wrapped in the meaninglessness of $10,000 dresses might titillate – but why was the most important fashion question of 2009 not addressed?
That being – how do real men take back the suit image from teenage rock bands?
Yours, while wondering why rationalism is the exclusive preserve of wild-eyed eggheads who only ever spin webs of marvelously useless deduction.
Righteous
p.s. My advice to young men?. Only ever date homeless chicks. At the end of the night, you can drop them off anywhere.
Is that a refrigerator I see, or is it something better?
cavort \kuh-VORT\, intransitive verb: to bound or prance about.
Today, it’s back to the sport that specialises in cavorting, and one that should fill every right thinking punters mind with images of brutal post-modernist architecture: bodybuilding
A year after losing the Mr. Olympia title to Dexter Jackson in 2008, Jay Cutler has returned to Las Vegas with some of that old Sinatra magic and obliterated the competition to win the 2009 Mr Olympia title.
Runners-up Texan Branch Warren and former Mr Olympia Dexter Jackson weren’t even fit to tie Cutlers dancing shoes.
The Mr. Olympia crown regarded as the Mount Everest of bodybuilding, and has now been won a 3rd time by Cutler.
Winning a third crown now brings him into an elite field of winners who have won 3 or more times including Ronnie Coleman, Lee Haney, Sergio Oliva, Frank Zane, Dorian Yates & Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Cutlers win still hasn’t convinced me that professional bodybuilding is the way to go – and I’m still of the opinion that if I could swap careers, I’d still choose to be a bush-walking guide for Swedish supermodels.
Yours, while doing things to onion rings that you couldn’t imagine.
Righteous
p.s. there aren’t 10 fun things you can say while holding your tongue
The King of Pills
“Then, as the sympathy and praise engulfed him, Hector would invariably roll over onto his back, legs in the air, his mouth twisted into an otherworldly rictus”
– Bruce McCall, “Writers Who Were Really Dogs”, New York Times, June 5, 1994
Replace the name Hector with Michael Jackson, and can see the last 30 seconds of his life played out.
I drink for a reason – and Michael Jackson took pills for a reason.
Mainly so he could walk amongst the clouds, become a canopy dweller in the forest of reality, indulge in adolescent bum fun – and repeat ad nauseam without feeling, understanding or any sense of responsibility.
This delicate lack of balance was made to measure. Soon it was lights, camera, no reaction.
Death doesn’t suck if death is what you want.
What reputation did he have left down here – a most unforgetable sick fuck who lived in the Neverland nuthouse and who learnt that upholding kiddie genital desires is neither cheap or painless.
When Michael Jackson died – he was taking a combination of sleeping tablets, pain killers, sedatives and muscle relaxants
Someone who takes that combination of drugs just wants to escape to the magical world of not thinking, doing or conceiving of anything.
And that is what he’s doing right now.
Lying dead – not moving, not thinking.
So, he was very successful with his strategy, and if someone achieves what they wanted, how can that be a tragedy?
And yet commentators say – let’s just celebrate his talent and achievements. Let’s forget about the crazy bits.
Well, as I’m licensed to ask – do we celebrate Hitler lowering the unemployment rate in Germany to 2% in 1939?.
Yours, while not seeing any inconsistency between anarchic socialism and my predilection for the high life.
Righteous
p.s. I rang the LA Times twice to stress that I had no business relationship with the family other than my highly paid PR consultancy on behalf of Joe Jackson, but also to vouch for the fact that the Jackson family were “splendid people” who should not be questioned regarding involvement in Michael’s death.
Ron day voo
Dan Brown is all over the shop
“The Da Vinci Code” author Dan Brown’s new book ‘The Lost Symbol’ has sold over half a million copies in first week of UK sales, making it the fastest-selling adult book of all time.
Hats off Mr Brown.
Because it is an exercise in misdirection and artifice. And like any idea, it’s only big if you can land it.
But, who can argue with success?
So, as nothing imitates like imitation – and to ensure my future success – from now on I’m going to write every blog post like Dan Brown.
I will now have a blog with massively cliched characters doing massively cliched stuff and the obligatory massively cliched secret society responsible for massively cliched plot points that make massively no fuckin’ cliche sense.
Fortunately, or unfortunately (and I’m leaning towards unfortunately), each blog post will now have Chutson the Nerd as the Pope – with blog troll and anti-christ of imagination PJenner15 as an albino priest who wears spikey metallic underwear while throwing word grenades.
The resulting blog posts will be nothing I’d tell my mates about.
Yours, while realising there is nothing at the end of the world – except this blog.
Righteous
p.s. But wait……there’s more. Well, actually……there isn’t.
Barnaby Joyce doesn’t want to chuckle. But then again…….
Barnaby Joyce has a three stage plan for thought development – disconnect, detach, disengage – mostly from reality.
The Nationals Senate leader says politicians should be paid as much as business leaders – and has called for Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s salary to be tripled to $1 million.
Barnaby, is this fiction, non-fiction, comedy or tragedy?.
Gosh, I don’t know, and neither does he – but I’m seriously repulsed, attracted, amused, yet very uncomfortable – and my porn star moustache is all abristle.
As politics is show business for ugly, shrill, immature and annoying people – if you use the old visual swapsie technique of writing, this would be like:
- giving a two year old his first beer,
- then watching him fall out of his stroller,
- flat on his face on the sidewalk,
- then have the kid scream at you every night for four years,
- with subject matter that is all about missed opportunities, jealousy and tainted women,
- while waving a wad of cash at you,
- and reminding you how expensive the sidewalk was.
Which brings me back to my point, kind of.
Some of these people got to where they are by catching the 8.15 to Central – with all the qualifications and skill that requires.
Do we really want them walking around with the small change of a small African banana republic in their pockets?
Price should reflect value – and if I was paying Kevin Rudd nothing – I would expect a discount.
Because if you want to be in showbiz, and you want to be on TV every night – that’s what erring on the side of boring me, rather than entertaining me, is worth.
Yours, while writing this blog on the back of a hanky – thereby ensuring I keep my part of the internet clean and germ free.
Righteous
p.s. No-one should be disappointed with this post as it has the mandatory spots of blood, requisite metallic scratchy words and general fickleness that is expected.
Boris Yeltsin: As drunk as Spongebob Squarepants, and just as sexy.
Russian leader Boris Yeltsin was once found near the White House late at night dressed in his underwear, seemingly drunk and looking for pizza, according to a new book detailing Bill Clinton’s presidency.
Mr Yeltsin, who died in 2007, is remembered for embarrassing drunken incidents and his stunted public persona – once seizing the baton from a bandmaster in Germany to conduct the band himself, and playing the spoons on the President of Kyrgyzstan’s bald head.
The shaggy doormat of a man, who was touched by the angel of good cheer daily and whose thoughts seemed to lurch forward like a car driven by a circus dwarf whose feet can’t reach the clutch while suffering a coughing fit, was a godless heathen who not only lost his faith, but also his shit, on a regular basis.
His quest for a Nobel Prize for drinking, and the whimsically demented behaviour that resulted, is a study in contrasts with the well shaped blandness of Kevin Rudd – whose every instinct in his scrawny frame screams……………maybe.
You and the chuckle hut that masqueraded as your mind are missed Boris.
Yours, while realising that an unlimited access to endless words and a willingness to use them is a dangerous cocktail.
Righteous
p.s. It’s all fun until someone cry’s
The deceptive DNA of Kyle Sandilands
The moment: 7.9.09: Sydney
Kyle Sandilands suspended again: this time for ‘concentration camp’ slur
Things aren’t pretty in Sin City for Kyle Sandilands
I say few things – most are manly – but on this I’m going to get shrill – the Australian media has a collective case of trolley rage, and Sandilands has been beaten down like he stole something.
Let me say first, Kyle Sandilands is not my homeboy.
In fact I wouldn’t want him anywhere near my home, and would prefer that he did not enter my suburb. Why would he need to – his pathetic and unfunny ego has its own postcode.
He is a monument to quality broadcasting - just like cement can pose as architecture if you squint your eyes and turn towards the sun.
If radio doesn’t work out for him, he should go into politics, because he is most qualified in Australia to be head up the Department of Ignorance.
In summary, he has all the charm and appeal of a pickled toad.
But in a good Christian way, even though Christianity defines hyprocracy – I am going to be the only person in Australia who comes to his defense on this (I now know how legal aid lawyers who have to defend paedophiles feel. It’s ickky)
As a fat jewish man, I straddle both issues – but I’m comfortable with this whole dynamic, because it reminds me of the battle for the Golan Heights. Bullshit on both sides.
In a fun game of spot the hypocrite, let’s break down this news story……………………..
“Sandilands was suspended by 2Day FM for his comments that Magda Szubanski would lose more weight in a concentration camp”
Righteous: She would……..she would definitely lose weight in a concentration camp. I don’t think anyone could argue with that. It’s stating the bleeding obvious. That means it’s pretty close to being a fact – and when did stating a fact become illegal or unethical?. But more importantly, it was a joke. Be angry at him for his uber-blondness resulting in close encounters with un-funniness 36/12 (because even thinking about Sandilands makes a day seem longer)
“Szubanski’s family is of Polish origin, a country where many of the worst Nazi concentration camps, including Auschwitz, were located”
Righteous: oooohhhhh……..let’s stretch it out……….way out……..SHE’S not from Poland – HER FAMILY IS FROM POLAND – where there were concentration camps. So she’s offended for her family, because they are from Poland. Note that Sandilands did not say – put her in the gas chamber in the concentration camp.
“Jackie O suggested Szubanski might not be able to lose any more weight due to her build”. “That’s what all fat people say,” Sandilands replied.
Righteous: Sandilands is right. Fat people say that, and it’s not true. If Szubanski didn’t eat for 12 months, besides being dead, she’d be a hell of a lot skinnier than she is now. It is a scientific fact. So she could be skinnier, everyone could IF THEY CHOOSE TO BE.
“Not being able to lose weight due to her build” is code from the Fat Lobby for “she doesn’t have the inclination or the discipline to stop stuffing her face – but even so, you can’t call her fat – because we in the Fat Industry are profiting of hyprocracy”.
Important to note at this point at Magda is a paid personality and presenter for Jenny Craig Weight Loss Centres.
Magda. You are fat. It is not a crime to make a bad joke about it. Tone down the outrage.
You have options.
If we stuck you in the desert for three months, you’d be skinnier.
If we stuck you in a TV show without catering for three months, you’d be skinnier.
If we revoked your sweet tooth license for three months, you’d be skinnier.
So the problem seems to be with the words ‘concentration camp’.
“Szubanski brushed off Sandilands’ on-air comments, but said they were offensive to those who had suffered in concentration camps”.
Righteous: Really!! Why?. Why are they offensive to those who suffered in concentration camps.?. If I had been in a concentration camp, would I be offended if he said you would lose weight if you were put in one?. Maybe, maybe not. But that’s the point – how dare you draw those people into your justification for being hurt that someone said you should lose some weight. You don’t speak for them. And why would you think you speak for them – because they lost weight while they were in the concentration camp, and have acid flashbacks when the words ‘concentration camp’ or ‘weight loss’ are mentioned?. Do they grieve the fat deposits they lost?. If they constantly get up each morning and wig out because they lost 270 pounds in 1945 – I’d like to see the evidence.
Perhaps we should ban the use of the word concentration camp. I mean, it’s obviously too soon to mention the war – it was only 70 years ago. Who the fuck decided they were going the be the rulemaker when it came to what words can and can’t be used?.
Magda Szubanski, this is not about your talent – which neither offends me, or interests me – it is about you being a hypocrite – because you use your fat for laughs, and you play to the fat stereotype, and you do it to further your career.
But you can’t have it both ways dah-ling..
And regarding taking up the cause of concentration camp survivors, and their delicate sensibilities (which seem to be a tad more robust than yours) – how convenient.
Did you ever do anything for them before this?.
You may have, but I would be betting a decent sum that the truth was no.
This issue has been manipulated by two groups – the Fat Lobby & the the Jewish Lobby.
Both these lobby’s are insidious.
The Fat Lobby says you can’t call fat people fat, and the Jewish Lobby says that only they can refer to the Holocaust, and certainly no-one can make jokes about it (I’m sorry, I must have been to lunch when that law was passed).
The analogy is black people using the word ‘nigger’ in every sentence, but when a white person uses it……kabooom.
It is hypocrisy, it is reverse racism, and it is not acceptable. It doesn’t matter who does it.
So Magda, this incident has exposed you for what you are – an opportunistic, humourless hyprocite getting up on your tippy toes to tap the glass ceiling of publicity for your own benefit.
You have moved beyond the funny to the absurd.
Yours, while wondering if a long-winded answer is better than a punch in the face.
Righteous
p.s. This blog starts and ends 10 minutes earlier, so you can fall asleep now, rather than later.
For those who flail and wince with Oscar worthy panache while dealing with the opening instructions for bananas
I always thought bananas were organic dildos.
Little did I know bananas had food in them, because I could never open them.
Then I came across this, and a whole world of banana inspired eating options opened up.
It will change forever the way you touch a banana.
How to open a banana like a monkey
Yours, while laying some whoopass on shaggy zombies who stole a piece of my life
Righteous
p.s. I seem to be continuing the perilious practice of not leaving well enough alone.
Bye bye Sarah…….Or something. Whatever
Righteous: No more.
Sarah: No more?
Righteous: No more Sarah Palin on the Righteous blog. We have to become Hulk Hogan & WWF compliant within 7 days.
Sarah: But I like it here. It’s the only place I’m welcome. Here and Mars.
Righteous: Having you squat here has been like having an out of body experience. There are more important things – like calling out David Lynch’s mediocrity, poking fun at Brock Lesnar’s love handles, discussing why the National Hotdog and Sausage Council chose October as National Sausage Month and – are people coping with the first Prison Break less TV season since 2004?. Also, PJenner15 and Chutson, the world’s edgiest nerd, have gone missing. I think they might be allergic to women in flannel shirts – or they’ve become the internet version of the age old tradition of boy falls for boy – and morphed into Spencer Tracey and Katherine Hepburn and danced off into the sunset together.
Sarah: But where will I go?
Righteous: Jesus you’re needy. I’ve made a bed up for you at The Sarah Palin Experience. You can crash there. It’s all Sarah, all the time. It’s like afternoon TV, but more mediocre. Your fans can visit your blog there.
Sarah: So it’s like a blog re-boot?
Righteous: More like the grand tradition of hiding behind a mask and playing an evil archetype.
Sarah: ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh
Righteous: So get your pure virgin un-used brain & un-cut moose-sized ambition out of here – you sociopathic santa claus, gift giving, weird figment of my sub-concious.
Sarah: I know you want me.
Righteous:. I don’t. I hate you. Go away. I much prefer Tina Fey.
Sarah: Fine. I’m going to go and stalk Billy Ray Cyrus then.
Righteous: Fuck off you nutcase redneck.
“Trash talking with Sarah Palin”
The super-secret, satirical, sarcastic and morally dubious backstage blog for “The 2012 Sarah Palin for President. Or something. Whatever” campaign
“It’s like running into a convenience store on a sugar high with a .357 magnum in your hand , and feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins” – David Lynch
“It’s phat, like me” – Brock Lesnar
“Are……we…..beginning…….to……..see…….the……..possibilities……..here………….?” - Julia…………..Gillard
Now showing at a webpage on the internets thingy near you.
(not to be used if pregnant or lactating)
Yours, while doing a yoga headstand without the help of a wall or a floor.
Righteous
p.s. This summer isn’t amounting to much so far.
While doing a yoga headstand without the help of a wall
The Sarah Palin blog: Eight minutes in the life of a single Alaskan woman
Dateline Alaska: The not-so-happy state.
I wish there were less than 24 hours in a day. I’m bored, bored, bored.
My marriage is dead, Todd speaks with a forked tongue, and I think he might just be bug fuck crazy.
He keeps trying to exhume the rotting corpse of our life together. Today he wrote me a poem:
I must go down to the sea again,
To the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship,
And a tanker with which to collide.
I’m not sure whether I am the tall ship, or the tanker in that medley of hodgepodge. I think it might be all about him wanting to have sex with me – his tall ship bumping into my tanker?. Guilty feet got no rhythm Todd.
Tame my ticker, good news at last:
$63,500 is winning bid on Sarah Palin dinner auction
“So, who did win? Cathy Maples, the owner of a defense contracting company in Alabama. She thinks Sarah Palin is pretty swell, and hopes she gets to be president some day”.
Since Todd and I are no longer together, I’ll need to organise a blind date.
Just finished composing an ad for online dating site rsvp.com:
“Wanted, for dinner of right wing cliches, false analogies, non sequiturs, bent facts and weird prophesies, a man. Peep into the magical world of Sarah Palin. If you’re into historical nonsense about the glory days of 2008 – combined with maudlin romance, call me. Proponent of artic oil drilling preferred. No muslims. Sarah. p.s. must be fan of Billy Ray Cyrus. p.p.s if you’re Billy Ray Cyrus, even better.”
The red mists of rage will descend on Todd when he reads that.
Wink.
Now I have to go and mix fodder for the cattle. Not only has this breakup been been painful, difficult, and inconvenient – I’m always filthy.
Why has my life become drudgery since Todd’s mother of all betrayals?.
Yours, while gazing into my crystal ball, darkly
Sarah
p.s. In the lab of life, minor celebrities shouldn’t be expected to know the rules of grammar.
Check out my new website – it’s French regency with a modern twist: The Sarah Palin Experience
The Sarah Palin blog: Hookers, transvestites and Billy Ray Cyrus.
Dateline Alaska: where people come to forget about their romantic pasts and shake off the Devil that haunts them.
Today I answered some fan mail….
Little kid: Sarah, is Alaska safe?
Sarah: If you act like Sarah Palin when you visit Alaska, you should be fine.
Also today, I proved my eco-credentials. As my contribution to saving the Alaskan polar bears, I have now gone without a hair straightening iron for 48 hours.
The big news today is that Todd no longer lives with me.
I discovered his Googling habits. And that led me to Second Life – where I caught his avatar being whipped by three Thai transvestites while being locked in a basement.
That fuckin’ jungle juice drinking Alaskan donkey herder.
He was always asking me to whip him every time he was stupid or misbehaved. Little did I know he was being unfaithfully stupid.
I thought his story about being mugged by a one-legged hooker last week was bogus. Why would a one-legged hooker mug him for his housekeeping money?. He only gets $10 a week.
He certainly possess an enviable superabundance of imagination regarding making stuff up, and his devotion to the gratification of his sexual appetites in commendable I suppose.
But Todd now calls a fishing shack home.
I’m fine with that. He was getting fatter than Fat Albert having sex with the two Fat ladies while listening to Fats Domino anyway.
I’m thinking I’ll get myself a real rock ‘n’ roll boyfriend now. Someone like Billy Ray Cyrus.
How long is considered normal to grieve a husband?
Yours, while saying bye bye. Or something………..whatever.
Sarah
p.s. Five kids, unemployed and a belly full of cookies. Crisis what crisis?
Check out my new website – it will make you feel smarter, for less than .27 cents a day: The Sarah Palin Experience
The Sarah Palin blog: Lingering in the shower thinking about Tina Fey
From behind the ice curtain, Sarah Palin gives you fresh takes from the great white land……..
Today, I went all feral ginger – and all this anger isn’t making me thinner.
I suffered an unfortunate resurrection of a bad nightmare – and you could hear my screams of panic as the earth moved, and the newsflash hit the wires:
My mojo was all over the place.
I was just so mad, I couldn’t bring myself to visit the loo, or think about anything else. This made me hold my wee all day. Is it bad to hold your wee?.
Firstly, these are buttons you should never push TV awards people. You do not ignore The Sarah.
Secondly, you can’t put a price on experience – well you can – in your case Ms Fey – about $3
Thirdly, don’t think this is some kind of divine sisterhood thing. If we ever cross tracks again, I’m going to tear you a fresh one Fey.
Sure, I might have raised eyebrows while living life on my own quirky terms, but they give you an Emmy for being me??
Let’s deconstruct this………
“Tina Fey” = translation: “pimp” comes to mind. Let’s just say – who made who missy?
“Uncanny portrayal” = translation: fits into the “crap” category. Whats so clever about looking like an airline trolley slut? And also, your rack needs a lift – while I, on the other hand, have the real weapons, and they work. Who really believes less is really more?
So, dear reader, what happens next?.
Welcome to the Sarah Palin blog – a place where Tina fey does not exist, and will never be mentioned again.
And what happens to Tina Fey?.
She’s free. To good home. Same strategy as getting rid of unwanted puppies and kittens.
Sorted. There is no way Sarah Palin will be shackled by this bureaucratic bullshit.
Yours, while planning the mainstreaming of shock jockery
Sarah
p.s. I don’t mind having lost the 2008 presidential election, I just hate that Obama won.
Check out my new website – it’s the ride you’ll come back for: The Sarah Palin Experience
All this nagging, Todd, isn’t making me thin
The Sarah Palin blog: There’s a mutiny every day
Living large in alaska – where omnipresent redneck locals determine whether you remain upright, or on your back in a dubious local hospital nursing burnt flesh.
Today was not a good day for me. Besides not a sniff of responsibility in sight, went to the supermarket, and everyone stared at me. Am I a human .jpeg??
Todd used the inertia created by his solid frame and deft touch on his snow mobile to stylishly destroy all virgin snow within 50 miles of our place today.
Yesterday, I put a little pink lipstick on this pitbull and had a meeting with Fox president of alternative entertainment Mike Darnell about replacing Paula Abdul on Amercian Idol.
We caught up for banana pancakes and a chat. He said that this arena is one in which my complex duality would play well – a chance to take my human projectile act to another level. All I would have to do is simply corral random thoughts briefly in my head, then let my mouth blaze away. The result would be the full blown saturation of America’s senses at every turn.
I told him I was locked and loaded, and ready to go! This was a punt that was sure to please my base.
So you can imagine my surprise when I opened up The Internets today and saw the headline:
“We made a call,” Darnell told EW.com, “and she was incredibly enthusiastic about the idea. And it came together in a couple of weeks. It was amazing! Abdul has weighed in on the choice, tweeting: “I think Ellen will b a gr8 judge on Idol.”
Jesus, its enough to make you take up crack. What a metaphoric slap in the face!. In my experience, a real slap in the face would have been preferable.
Ellen DeGeneres??
She looks and behaves like the love child of Johnny Rotten and an albino bat – and she’s as exciting as watching two condoms having a fist fight in a bucket of spermicide. Get outta my dreams Ellen, you’re stealing my success!
In ‘Sarah Palin Was Robbed!’ , Joal Ryan lays out a very strong case for why I should have been the one they picked:
- Palin competed in beauty pageants.
- She knows what it’s like to sell yourself when you have little to no discernible talent.
- Palin can’t sing. But DeGeneres can’t either.
- Palin watches a lot of TV. According to ex-future-son-in-law Levi Johnston in Vanity Fair, Palin “sat on the living-room couch in her two-piece pajama set from Wal-Mart…watching house shows and wedding shows on TV.”
While this is the first sensible thing the craft punk Johnston has said since he removed magic mushrooms from his diet, he is still off the schizzle. Is this the thanks I get for removing his personality and charisma?. You’re big, but you’re not bulletproof Levi.
The TV industry shits me. Fuckin’ lefties, all of them.
I (almost) did it my way (again).
Yours, while wondering why success can’t be as simple as rocket science
Sarah P
p.s. My life just keeps rewriting itself, and Todd is still stinging for a root.
Check out my new website, it’s like sticking a fire hose up your muck hole: The Sarah Palin Experience
The Sarah Palin blog: Fast facts in five minutes with Sarah
A postcard from Alaska.
I’m depressed. I’m feeling that people are starting to care more about Alaska’s pristine wilderness than they are about me.
Today, I tried to find:
- a new trailer park to call home
- and a way to create a pure, pared back Sarah aesthetic for 2012.
“You’re joking right? Surely you can’t be serious?” Todd said.
Speaking of Todd, he wanted to poke me in the birth region last night again. That Todd is one horny hombre. After snowmobiling, there’s no stopping him.
Met with Rupert Murdoch yesterday to discuss my proposed talk show on Fox News called “The Palin Experiment”.
He wanted me to complete the question and answer personality profile for the Fox publicity department.
I think the word wizardry of my answers will impress those wingnuts at Fox:
- Your favourite room at home is: My hall of mirrors
- You are most inspired by: Going to sleep
- The best lesson you’ve ever learnt is: Stop over-thinking every little thing
- If you could be anywhere right now, you’d be: Counting backwards
- How would you describe your fashion style: Shapeshifter
- What do you like most about life right now: The fickleness of a throw away society
- How would you describe your ideas: Blobular
- What is your greatest indulgence: Cocktails and cigarettes in bed before I get up.
- How would you describe your public speaking style: Swoop, spin and splay
- What is your greatest regret: With the benefit of hindsight, I should not have slept with John McCain to get in the VP slot in 2008
- How would you describe your political style: I will not walk away from tough decisions. Run, yes; cry, yes: but certainly there won’t be much walking.
- Your favourite phrase: Just saying…….
- Your greatest talent: Insult is my stock in trade
- What do you do when not working: Play the lying down game
- What would you say if you got arrested: You picked the wrong person for a polygraph
- Your greatest strength: I am impervious to facts
- Todd’s cute nickname for you: The mighty bush (there isn’t much in the way of beauty salons up here)
- Do you have a tattoo?: Yes, it says ‘do not enter, or trespass upon”. I got it when our last child popped out of me.
- What is your greatest fear: Being speechless
- What do you say to people when you mistakenly say something they can understand: Pssst. Don’ t tell anyone
- What were the first words you said to John McCain when he vetted you for VP: Do you think I’m sexy?
- What do you dislike: Truth in blogging
- What is your greatest concern: My amazing expanding arse.
- What are your memories of the 2008 campaign: There are an endless number of ways to erase bad memories.
- What is your favourite colour: Bad blood
Yours, while thinking how ironic it is that I was conceived at Woodstock
Sarah P
p.s. I feel like an empty amusement park
Check out my new website, and wake up to the Palin Revolution: The Sarah Palin Experience
Swoop, spin and splay
The Sarah Palin blog: Todd, Interrupted
Location: the fragile state of Alaska:
I’m tired and testy, and suffering a bad case of literary road rage. Today, the only corners I have cut are the four corners.
Caught Todd masturbating with a copy of Snowmobiler magazine. What the fuck? He must have a vivid imagination. Meet my husband world – Mr Fetish. He is very unwholesome.
This time Todd, you’ve gone too far. This will result in a public shaming if it gets out. Move along people, nothing to read here.
He says it’s because I’ve become arrogantly dismissive of his sexual needs. Really?. Cut the carp first dude.
Does he not realise that I keep moving forward, but he just keeps getting more annoying?.
Let’s just say, Todd did not win the gene lottery. Just saying…….
I do not feel comfortable telling him that pouring my hard earned sexual status as world’s most desirable MILF into a chronic home grown canopy dweller like him is the last thing I’d want to do.
I’d rather hunt kittens from a helicopter. Really, I would.
Todd said “Build it first – then you can play”. I think it was some kind of sexual innuendo, or he was mis-quoting Field of Dreams.
On a side note, Todd does have a Clintonian ability to remember the names of countless models of snowmobiles, just as Clinton did names of people he met briefly.
Had a call today from a Mr Daddy Warbucks of The Profit Snatching Corporation of America. He is a global gentleman, but extremely orotund. He said money is no problem for me for 2012. A quiet wow!. He is a very nice man. Since he makes all the guns that we use in the wars we start, letting him own me would be staying true to our troops on the front line.
He wouldn’t dare ask for a refund would he?. Asking for a refund is the cheapest conservatism.
The Atlantic magazine said today that starting a sentence with “Did you hear what Palin said?” is the political joke equivalent of “A dyslexic walks into a bra.” There is no punchline. The joke has already been told”.
Political bah humbug.
This is why I drink.
Yours, while being a victim of cut and paste journalism.
Sarah P.
p.s. Monsignor has finally agreed to gather the secret society and vote on my proposal to rule the world.
Check out my new website, it tears Democrats a fresh one: The Sarah Palin Experience
I keep moving forward, but you keep getting more annoying
The Sarah Palin blog: Back from Infinity
No fixed address: Wasilla, Alaska
I was thinking when I’m president that we would re-locate Washington to Wasilla. But this shit-hole gulag is a self-deluded cacoon of rednecks and rodents.
Todd fell off his snowmobile again today while he was out taunting fat chicks.
I’m tired. I’m eating too much, I’m irritable. Basically I’m depressed big time. Being mocked continuously takes its toll. Worse yet, I think people are starting to ignore me.
That evil Obama dude is making a health care debate speech to a joint session of congress tomorrow. Decided to inject myself back into the debate with some more “death panel” jive talk in the Wall Street Journal.
Righteous Schimmelbusch, my 2012 campaign manager, says that a poll conducted by Pew Research at the end of August found that 86 percent of respondents had heard of the “death panel” controversy. Of those people, 30 percent said it was true. Just shows what you can get done when armed only with ignorance and a pitchfork.
Those rabblerousers Factcheck.org are on my case again, saying they knew Sarah Palin would be spreading more disinformation on health care.
I don’t know what disinformation is – but Factcheck.org – I knew Sarah Palin, and you sir are no Sarah Palin. Don’t they know that I am paid to say ignorant dumbass things – or what Fox would call news.
No more “pull the plug on grandma” – now it’s “pull the plug on factcheck.org”. Shit, let’s pull the plug on Alaska while we’re at it.
Six things I can’t do without:
- flush toilets
- machine-washed clothes
- assaulting the English language
- a wilful gift for malapropism
- every situation demanding an overly simple solution
Yours, while making sure all the doors are locked before the witch burners arrive
Sarah
p.s. I am not happy with being described as a whiny would-be beauty queen. It is messing with my mojo.
Check out my website. It’s nifty: The Sarah Palin Experience
The Sarah Palin blog: Sitting in a tree yelling at the world
Wake at 9am in my igloo (I don’t actually live in an igloo, but my base likes the imagery)
Tortured Todd by hiding snowmobile keys.
Again.
He’s so fucking unproductive, neuron deficient, yellow poop, Alaska stupid he falls for it every time. (Can this blog hurt me in court?)
Eat breakfast at McDonald’s – after an e-coli outbreak – because I’m God lovin’ real American. Shrill health warnings don’t scare me. Schizzle my nizzle Obama.
Walked around the house naked the rest of the day (I didn’t – because Todd keeps saying that I have a fat arse, even compared to a polar bear. So I’m not going to give him more material to work with. I just said that because I’m still waiting for Playboy to call. And my base likes the imagery)
Read Vanity Fair article on me – takes every shitty little thing I’ve done and turns it into parody. Scanned the usual line up of suspects. Michael Wolff is a bag of douche. He is riding the Palin bow wave. I am a chicky babe.
Got in my beautiful carbon-spewing motor vehicle (the carbon is beautiful, not the car) and went down to the video store.
The meth-head clerk at the video store said he thinks I’m ‘the dirtiest girl in the whole wide world’ and ‘Alaska’s own Boganista’ . I despise the working class but I respect the intellectual rigour of their arguments.
Had a mystical awakening – got an inspirational film called Idiocracy – in which the director says that Republicans will take over the world eventually. I think this is the most intellectually honest film ever made.
Apparently electrolytes are the new oil. Drill for electrolytes baby drill.
I have decided to make space for life, and let the internet come to me. So I am auctioning my junior athletics medals on The Ebay, even though the Democrats invented The Internets. I found The Ebay through The Google. Those Democrats are pretty smart. I couldn’t be bothered making something with so many tubes.
Fired my elocution teacher. Just felt like we had gone as far as we could.
Hired Righteous Schimmelbusch as 2012 campaign manager. He is a lackey, a toad worshipper and a puppet. But he’s a first person shooter when it comes to making me look good and being a celebrity news coach.
He has already come up with a campaign slogan – Sarah Palin: Sexy Bitch for President. I do not have a belly full of criticism for that slogan.
Wrote a letter to God applying for position of President of Everything. God is the most sexy handsome hunky character in all of fiction.
Righteous says that if Sarah Palin: Sexy Bitch doesn’t work, he wants to go with Sarah the Great. Third option is ‘The Bible (Isaiah 5:52) recommends frugality and hard work. So does Sarah Palin’.
Decide to reinvent myself online. Got the world’s edgiest nerds to create ‘The Sarah Palin Experience.com’. Contains the Palin Futurist Manifesto of 2012. Has received great reviews:
New York Times – “zero to sixty in 70%”
Washington Post – “a mental shell game”
George Will – “words, stupidity and the internet all meet as one fiery liquid thing”
George W Bush – “it gives over the top a new meaning”
MENSA – “contains the new rules for un-evolved and retarded humans”
Even though I have unleashed a blog that defies categorisation, I have learnt that structuring a blog post from beginning to end is for Playschool and the alphabet. Go ahead, fire me.
Learnt new word – abecedarian \ay-bee-see-DAIR-ee-uhn\, noun: One who is learning the alphabet; hence, a beginner. The Democrats invented the Dictionary. I don’t like the Dictionary.
Just got my Twitter on. Obama is headed for one-term humiliation. I drink your milkshake Obama. You know lots of stuff, but who needs knowledge when your base is hick towns and just peachy yokels. I think I might be the last person standing on this Obama groupstink. I loathe this democracy stuff. All that voting for Obama. Again and again and again.
Cooked lunch of fried butter for Todd. It’s his favourite.
Righteous says we must insist on one question press interviews. Says that I will be President because no-one’s waiting and I’m next. He seems troubled. He gives me a note while winking. It says “a new President by Friday – the fix is in”. I think the lord of the rings is losing it.
Crowd outside my house is chanting ‘Right now who?. Right now Sarah!’. I’m impressed with their ugly schtick.
September edition of Moose Hunter says smug arrogance is the new black.
My advice for the day. Be friends with your computer and avoid cliches.
The rest is future history.
Yours, while acknowledging dead people do not vote in the USA, only in Alaska.
Sarah (possibly not her real name)
p.s. Keep on truckin’ y’all
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Check out my new website, 20% off Sarah Palin this week only: The Sarah Palin Experience
He is a bag of douche.
The smell of Australia
The Australian Government announced that it was spending up to $20m on a new branding concept for Australia – to replace the failed ‘where the bloody hell are you’ campaign.
In true ad land style, we at Righteous Schimmelbusch + partners (where lying for fun and profit is our bread and butter) had lunch, drew on napkins and have come up with a campaign that was not weighed down by research or data.
“Australia: trust us, it’s possibly better than the movie – but that depends if you liked the movie or not”.
Is not saying something a lie?
Apparently, poor taste requires a thrifty kind of tilling.
Yours, while being straightforward, as opposed to backwards
Righteous
p.s. what happens when one-time emo punks turn to melody?
A sex crazed rap parody? It’s a piece of cake.
King of Bling Lil Jon assaults the star of kids show ‘Lazytown’ in a mash-up with a culture heavy message:
“Rub that shit it’s yours bitch, grab his dick it’s yours bitch
Never use a messy recipe, NIGGA WHAT?!
The cake will end up crazy,
Grab a dick, it’s yours bitch
In 1 minute 18 secs, you will understand why the internet was invented.
“Cooking by the Book” A Lil’ Bigger Mix by Mastgrr
Yours, while leaving the politics behind and returning to what I know best. Booty songs.
Righteous
p.s. It is not a positive that you would be chosen as the person most likely to play a rapist in a Quentin Tarantino movie.
Why God made Twitter
Here’s my theory.
God is a cunt.
Why would he create plague, war, cruelty, famine, floods, pestilence, Twitter, Pete Wentz or Ashlee Simpson?.
It might sound like a wildly dubious premise, but no good could come from the literary equivilent of a half pike with somersault (Twitter) providing the outlet for random acts of literary junk logic by Europunk Fall Out Boy Pete Wentz as he test fires new material at pot star and crackhead special Ashlee Simpson.
Simpson tweeted to her husband, “Thanx for dedicating the dj set to me. Love you more magic. I miss u already.”
And Wentz tweeted her, “You’re just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather In a beautiful world’ fly safe!”
What the hell is wrong with these people – share files, not secrets.
Wentz has bipolar disorder, and in February 2005, Wentz attempted suicide by taking an overdose of the anxiety medication Ativan. Commenting on the event to a magazine, he said:
“The more I isolated myself, the more isolated I’d feel. I just wanted my head to shut off, like, I just wanted to completely stop thinking about anything at all”.
That sounded like a good strategy – knowing when to hold ‘em, and knowing when to fold ‘em is the key to psychodrivel.
So what went wrong?.
We invented God, and then we invented a story about God inventing us, and then Pete Wentz created his own fantasy world in which he was God.
You can run but…….
If this blog had a finger, it would give it to you Pete Wentz.
Yours, while being contentious, whichever way you look at it.
Righteous
p.s I had a golden shower, but I still feel dirty
Knowing when to hold them
I am the music. You just don’t want to hear the notes I’m playing
This blog says NO to old school. And it says NO to Rick Astley.
The man who was used to con the world with Rickrolling in 2008 because he was so annoying, successfully proved that the same old joke (internet memes, sickly dreamscape music) can go just a little too far.
Rick Astley caused the worst decade of my life – imagine listening to that screwball pop queen define himself as a triumph of uncool for 10 years, with songs that were equal parts sweetness and teething problems.
Groupthink is more stimulating than having to watch him dance his stupid little dance.
So just when I was thinking how do I future-proof myself against Rick Astley, he gets his electric boogaloo on again, while whipping up a retro rock storm with some heavy shredding.
And what’s even better is that Rick Astley had nothing to do with it – because if he had, it would be hard to shake that ‘it could have been better’ feeling.
BRAT has mashed up Rick Astley with the heavy metal hard men of Nine Inch Nails – creators of thrash from another world and a band fond of blowing things up – to produce a song appropriate for dancing through the Armegeddon.
Rick Astley and NIN in da house – and they will see you now.
Rick Astley vs Nine Inch Nails – The Hand That Gives You Up (BRAT Mashup)
If you don’t think that mash-up is seriously gangbusters, here’s the original Nine Inch Nails song.
Nine Inch Nails ‘The hand that feeds‘
Yours, while being the subject of a nationwide manhunt
Righteous
p.s. I don’t need a back story, I need a front story.
