Monthly Archives: November 2007

Fat Eyes, Fat Hearts, Can’t Lose (Weight)

Two studies this year, one published in The Journal of the American Medical Association and another in The Journal of Pediatrics, found that weight problems among high school football players ??? especially linemen ??? far outpaced those of other male children and adolescents.

Now coaches and researchers fear that some young athletes may be endangering their health in an effort to reach massive proportions and attract the attention of college recruiters.
(New York Times)

Uh oh. It looks like we’ve got a serious problem on our hands, guys. It looks like the Paper of Record has rehired Jayson Blair. How else to explain these bold fabrications? High school football players who are overweight? With jerseys that look about 1,000 sizes too small for them? I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure high school football players are in their mid-to-late 20s, and GORGEOUS.

What’s up with Smash’s boots in that picture? It’s like “on the field, I’m a lightning fast tailback who’s quick to temper, but off the field I’m a granola lesbian whose dream vacation would be a week camping in Yellowstone.”

Friends #3116

“Friends,” if ever I have called upon you, it is now.

As many of you have probably noticed, something has gone horribly wrong with the internet this week. We face a dangerous threat.

Are you just going to let Greg Johnson take over the internet? Seriously? No. No you are not.

I have established a Facebook group in order to stop this horrible disease that is infecting our computers/eyes.


Kill yourself.

Video Looks Good to Me

This is about to get real limiting for people.

Good job, Fred, you did it. Nnnnn….it’s exciting! But where did you get that pool? REMEMBER WHERE YOU CAME FROM. Where you came from there are no pools. Unless that is Fuller. Is that Fuller?

This reminds me of the best inside joke ever from Thanksgiving 2 when Risa and Grace disagreed about something and Risa said, “Whatever, Blue Onion.” If you knew anything, you’d have died laughing. Get your Commstock ’08 t-shirt next summer at the West Park band shell. Whoops, I’m almost 30.

Told you.

Cause Tonight Livin’ in the Opposite of a Fantasy, In Her Own Little Nasty World

First, let’s get this out of the way:

Q: Do you subscribe to JET?
A: Yes.

OK, so I was looking through the new Chris Brown cover issue of JET to see if there is any new information on Chris Brown’s T-Cell count, and I was simultaneously delighted and appalled by this month’s “Where is…” column about the original nasty girl, Vanity. Or, as she is known in the evangelical churches where she now ministers as a born again Christian, Denise Matthews. So, Vanity, how’s your vagina?

“I have been a virgin in Jesus Christ for almost 10 years,” says Matthews who lives alone with her five cats. “It’s a great testimony to have that. I wouldn’t even think about letting anyone touch me. I look at myself now as a treasure and respect myself.”

Um, what? I’m all for looking at yourself as a treasure, obs, but I don’t see what treasure has to do with being a sad unsexed cat lady. If that’s treasure, I don’t want to be a pirate. Anymore. What? Forget it. It’s Chinatown.

She’s a nasty girl, yes, but as the years go by the meaning of nasty changes.

She does peritoneal dialysis at her home five times a day for 20 minutes. “I do it manually by myself. Most people do it when they are asleep, but I don’t want to be hooked up to a machine while I’m sleeping.”

Whoops, I just killed myself.

In case anyone reading this doesn’t know what dialysis is, it’s the mechanical process of filtering the blood, which is done by machine in the event of renal failure. My dad used to work at a dialysis clinic, and I can assure you that it is the most depressing kind of clinic. So, there you go. This just goes to show, you should never ask “where are they now” unless you’re ready for the answer. I’m sure Denise Matthews is so excited that her fans are out there, writing in to JET to find out what is the deal. She almost married Prince. Shoulda woulda. One morning you wake up and all your dreams have turned into dialysis and so many cats. Warning to Celebrities: If JET ever calls you to find out what happened, HANG UP THE PHONE. Even if you have a successful real estate business.

If you want JET to find out what’s happened to your favorite celebrity, let us know at (sic)

Cum on Feel the Silence, or http://www.frankiewho?.com

Kevin DuBrow, lead singer of Quiet Riot, is dead at 52.

“I can’t even find the words to say,” Quiet Riot bandmate Frankie Banali said on his Web site. “Please respect my privacy as I mourn the passing and honor the memory of my dearest friend, Kevin DuBrow.”

You just mean “keep doing what you’re doing, everybody,” right? Because I’m pretty sure the world has been doing a good job of respecting your privacy, Frankie Banali.

The Fight Against Lukemia Just Got a Whole Lot Less Funnier

Obviously I don’t wish cancer on any child, but I work hard for my money, and I don’t think it’s fair of you to expect me to just give it up willy nilly for every two-bit cause that comes knocking on my door. No sir. I want to help, but I don’t crawl into bed with just anybody. Why, I hardly even crawl into bed with my own wife if you catch my meaning (nudge nudge.) Nossir, you’re going to need to do better than that. I know they’re bald and sickly and done nothing on this Earth to have reaped the wrath of God in such a way, but don’t I got my own problems? That’s just a fact. I’m sorry for it, but it’s the truth.

Now, you say you want my help? Well, you better find a popular comedian from the 1980s known for cocaine abuse and his trademark manic delivery of suicide-inducing jokes or NO DEAL, PAL.

Continue reading

Children of the Corn for President!


Who wouldn’t vote for this angriest of anti-war munchi-chis? Isaac will make the best Vice President. He will help balance out Kucinich’s controversial peace-hugging liberalism with a good old fashioned patricidal scythe hunt.

from the barn house to teh white house

With Mordechai as the campaign manager, the only thing that can stop them is whatever stopped them at the end of Children of the Corn. What stopped them? I don’t remember. That movie was too scary/stupid. I saw it at my cousins’ house. Thanks, cousins. What stopped them, guys? Let me guess: drawn butter and salt. No, let me guess:

stop killing parents!

When You’re Here, You’re Family

Mom #3116: Who broke the porcelain on this toilet?
Worker #3116: Not me.
Pépé #3116: Not me.
Mémé #3116: What happened?
Mom #3116: I don’t know, someone must have brought something in here and dropped it because there’s a dent in the floor and there’s a chip in the base of the toilet.
Worker #3116: It wasn’t me.
Pépé #3116: The only thing I take into the bathroom is my penis.
Mémé #3116: Well, that’s not breaking anything.
Pépé #3116: No, it’s not.
Mémé #3116: You got that right.