We used to just say Archie Comics was gay, not it’s in the byline. Like many rebooted comics of days past, the comic is now tackling modern teen social issues by insisting that everybody in high school is somewhere in the LGBT klatch. Or wishes they were. A few years ago Archie took a bullet from a homophobe and died as often happens in school hallways between periods. Gay friendly dead hero Archie served as some temporary diversity boost for the languishing label. Times being what they are, gay martyrdom is very last year. So now Jughead announced he is asexual. It’s interesting because you had to look it up.
Unlike most guys in high school who simply couldn’t get laid, Jughead doesn’t want to get laid. It does seem like a simpler life. Also a solid pedophile cover. Scores of readers who identify as asexual came out to cheer the Jughead news. Imagine how fun that party is. I’m certain there are some teens born without the desire to reproduce, but species tend not to do well in the absence of fornication. It has to be relatively miniscule. I think you’re confusing your obsession with manga with asexuality. Practically the same, but technically quite different. It’s time to introduce the school therapist character who gets to the bottom of the eighty percent non-hetero stats at Riverdale. I bet they find politics in the drinking fountains.
Heidi Klum is the perfect weapon. She’s tall and slender and blond and speaks flawless English with a European accent. She has a business brain that can calculate the Euro VAT tax to ten decimal places. Her uterus auto adjusts fertility based on the commercial viability of whoever she’s fucking. She’s the survival alien in Species, now worth $75 million and climbing. There are any number of good looking women in this world who want to live in mansions and drink champagne on yachts. To own all that shit and only fuck who you want by forty. That’s some never level achievement. You want a female President who doesn’t need to pad her resume and the young men of American can patriotically tug one out to? Heidi Klum. Update her Wiki and say she was born in Hawaii. Yes, that actually works.
Amber Rose and Blac Chyna were in Trinidad for carnival dressed in traditional feathered Mardi Gras costumes. Like two ginormous birds with bird herpes. Ben Wa balls are not the same as beads, stop throwing yours at me.
Their asses add another meaning to Fat Tuesday. (TMZ)
Teresa Guidice is selling her book about hard time in a minimum security Federal penitentiary for eleven months. She found the entire experience exhausting and demeaning to her as a respectable Northern Jersey grifter. The showers were often cold and the mattresses were used. She stayed hard with the rigors of daily yoga and Pilates workouts. She’s still overweight so it’s unclear precisely how rigorous. Guidice’s in that sweet spot when larger women with pit stains can sympathize with her story even though she caught a huge break in sentencing and shows zero signs of remorse. It’s not like she killed somebody. Did they really have to limit her access to eye shadow for a year? Her husband goes away for three years shortly for his involvement in the same financial fraud. I bet he skips the yoga. You don’t want to be known as the flexible guy in the men’s penitentiary. Even white collar criminals miss fucking.
Ashley Graham has fashioned herself a lucrative business out of not losing that last twenty-five pounds. Empowerment lectures, ‘real woman’ merchandise sales, and now she’s been drafted into Time-Warner corporate diversity mandate by way of inclusion into the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. A reasonable number of men dig the Ashley type of jiggle and cake. Still, she’s not a logical fit for SI who has been diligently Photoshopping the slightest imperfections and nipples off their swimsuit models for decades now. So, they’re lying about why they picked her.
Graham’s a chunky wind up toy with a spiel about how the average sized woman in the U.S. is a 12-14. She’s a 16, but pay no attention to the breakdown in her message. There’s something to be said for designing women’s clothes for where the buyers are. There’s less to be said about fucking up some historically decent spunk material, Graham explains it with a straight face thusly:
Women want to see themselves in magazines. Men want to see similar type things to what they have at home…
That’s a daring suggestion not supported by any evidence whatsoever. There’s billions of hours of porn consumed in this country annually that speaks to the opposite. Graham’s entire premise is ridiculous on its face. There is no widespread clamor for zaftig bikini models. However, there is a strong push for whatever inclusiveness means among large corporate entities. You’re playing this well, Graham. All the power and money to you. Don’t chide us when we slap your ass. We’re the victims here.
Officials at Glen Allen High School outside of Richmond, Virginia are receiving backlash for a Black History month video designed to make white students feel super shitty about racism in America. The animated film, The Unequal Competition Race, uses the metaphor of a race around a track to show how white people are uniformly privileged and connected and black people and a guy who might be Hispanic or ethnic Armenian face an onslaught of unstoppable barriers to any type of success. Like sharks. Which are metaphors for the crappy education black students receive if they happen to attend Glen Allen High School.
Black History Month is limited in its own definition. Black History is finite and therefore each successive year brings little in the way of new history to study. In contrast, a Black Future Month is limited only by the extent of imagination. Black Future Month could include such wild eyed possibilities as black people telling guilty white people in the public education establishment to stop making shitty affirmative action cartoons.
Progressive white people used to make decent racial satire. All in the Family is a gem. Somebody decided racism is too serious for comedy or satire so they fired all the talented pot smoking leftists and brought in a bunch of bureaucratic hacks with rule books and approved speech. The Unequal Competition Race doesn’t change a single heart. It’s White Privilege porn. A smarmy white kid beats out a black dude in dreads around the track? False premise.
If you’ve ever watched Bravo’s Shahs of Sunset, you’re a fucking idiot. God gave you genitals and opposable thumbs. You have something better to do. Highlights of the show include nothing. Lowlights include Mercedes “MJ” Javid. I know there’s a math formula for exponential growth, but for reasons of simplification, let’s just call her diabetic. Javid is often called the “plus-size Kardashian” which is probably selling the real Kim Kardashian short. Javid recently did a photo shoot mimicking Kardashian’s nude desert shoot. Nobody remembers that desert shoot because when you picture Kim Kardashian naked, you invariably picture shitting on her face in the garage.
It takes work to be the shittier version of Kim Kardashian. Javid is fulfilling her lofty dreams by being as sedentary as possible in very little clothing. She posted a nip-slip pic of herself on Instagram that she later removed, feigning disbelief while pouncing on the opportunity to beat her fat breasts in support of BBW pride. Her ultimate goal is unclear, though it’s safe to say we need to form a committee to try and thwart it.
Madonna’s son Rocco fled the U.S. at the end of last year to be with his dad Guy Ritchie in London because dad didn’t insist he share quarters with three dozen Moroccan boy dancers who smell like liniment and make strange guttural noises in the middle of the night. Madonna filed a series of legal challenges yet to be decided to demand her son back. She’s recently hired a private investigator to trail her son in London. The P.I. reports back to Madonna that Rocco is skipping school, hanging out in skate parks, and smoking cigarettes. Guy Ritchie doesn’t seem to care. Or he’s gay deprogramming his son. Madonna insists her teen son needs the structure only a world tour and seeing your fifty-seven year old mom in just a metal bra splashing olive oil on her vulva in front of 30,000 Slovakians can bring. A court will decide next month which fucked up situation Rocco must endure until he’s eighteen and can start self-medicating with drugs in his own apartment. There’s nothing worse than when Sean Penn shows up to your intervention calling himself your uncle. Fucking drama queen.