Sometime during Morrissey’s endless list of verbalized complaints about topics ranging from mushy peas to fair eco-trade practices in Sub-Saharan Africa, he spit out being manhandled in the junk zone by a TSA agent at the San Francisco Airport. If you listened to Morrissey’s side of the story, it read like a Burning Bed rape story where he was subdued and sodomized in the name of keeping not moderate Arabs from blowing shit up again. He relished recounting the story as it contained all his favorite subjects: his victimization and men fondling other men’s balls. He even noted he had legal action pending.
The video is out now. As much as it’s easy to hate airport security and TSA because they are incompetent boobs who steal your shit and finger fuck your grandmother and have yet to stop a single fanatical Muslim from boarding a plane because they’re not really even allowed to, this doesn’t look like the gladiator rape Morrissey’s been promising us through use of molestation puppet re-creation.
Does the occasional male TSA agent take the opportunity provided him to reach-around men he finds alluring and give a little pecker squeeze for Uncle Sam? Absolutely. That and seventeen union mandated meal and relief breaks during six hour shifts is the only real perk of the job. If Morrissey has to get an unrequested handy for the rest of us to know we’re getting to Denver alive, so be it. It sucks to be Anglo handsome and famous and sexually undeclared. Next time, bring a fake wife. It’s San Francisco, Steven.
Natures likes to punish college educated white women who belong to the Sierra Club but can’t start a campfire. There’s Lyme disease, but that’s still a work in progress and only afflicts famous people. In a fresh experiment, God sent an Alaskan black bear to torment a shrill kayaker armed only with pepper spray and her Discovery Channel level knowledge of the outdoors. The woman with a vocal range that could neuter a house pet covered the bear in cayenne mist for daring to be in his own house then chided him not to break her kayak as if she were his super annoying girlfriend begging him not to go to his buddy’s bachelor party in Vegas. You can test yourself by watching this until the end. It will remind you to be dutiful to a higher power of your choice. Also, to hope the bear consumes her alive in part two.
Watching chunky lady talk show porn piggy back off one another for masturbatory ratings tears is fascinating. Oprah secured a big get for her show nobody knew was still on the air when she got the cute little ragamuffin kid from Who’s The Boss to admit on national television that he’s the 79,858,920th person in the world to be HIV positive. Harkening back to twenty five years ago when such revelations where newsworthy. Or when Who’s the Boss was actually on the air. Danny Pintauro’s confession has moved a lot of people who haven’t given a fake shit about this kid since he stopped appearing on their TV screens a long time ago. Including Alyssa Milano who was the only former cast member from Who’s the Boss who didn’t know Danny was HIV positive, mostly because she didn’t keep contact with him and he didn’t want to tell her. That didn’t keep The Talk, the overtly racially diverse afternoon talk show, from showing Danny’s Oprah confession to Alyssa Milano and closing on her tears while she declared Danny a hero. Actually, she called him a beacon of light. What? There’s nobody more affected by this than Alyssa Milano.
Cheap tawdry elicited tears are the money shots of daytime talk. Why are you crying? There’s cum in my eye. Are people revealing they are HIV positive heroes? I think the argument can be made for this in the early days of The AIDS when you risked a ton of repercussions. Now you might as well shamefully confess you serve meals to the less fortunate. Nobody gets kudos for coming out with kuru after eating the flesh of their human slaughter. Ranking diseases based on nobility seems unfair. As does showing some chick crying over a co-worker from twenty-five years ago announcing he’s HIV positive. Half of West Hollywood is HIV positive. Walk Santa Monica Boulevard with your pressed juice and breathless sobs. Just don’t breastfeed your baby. You will be shamed.
On the heels of their All-Natural Burger introduction that by process of elimination left people asking what was in all their other burgers, Carl’s Jr. quickly rolled out a highly publicized new themed burger. The Tex Mex Bacon Thick Burger. It’s unclear what any of this means except that at this point the Carl Karcher great grandkids are summer interning in the marketing department. Designing a burger around Google trending border war topics seems like a poor culinary rationale. I get it, the blonds are Americans and the brunettes are Mexicans. Why must of think of half-dead Central American children being run by coyotes across the Sonoran while I’m trying to eat my ten thousand calorie burger?
As with all fast food burger buying decisions, just tell me if it tastes good when I’m wasted at two in the morning and does it cost less than five bucks. I don’t care how fucking high you are, you’re never so faded that six bucks for a drive-thru burger makes sense. The connection between erection and hunger remains entirely unproven, though science has shown your odds of getting laid by a model decline in direct proportion to how many meals a week you eat at Carl’s Jr. Good luck with the math. And the gas.
Taylor Swift fans are disheartened their infallible deity was dramatically out performed in a guest duet by Mick Jagger summoned from his ancient tomb only moments before going on stage. Objective onlookers agreed that the ancient Jagger was also more fuckable and didn’t need to wear high waisted pants to hide his hippy figure. Taylor Swift trots out an assortment of celebrity guests every venue because even twelve year olds know that seeing a gangly chick with giant teeth and a limited vocal range isn’t worth the tremendous Ticketmaster service charges. It’s time for Taylor Swift to come out from behind the Oz-like smoke and vocal assists and start handing out gifts. Cheap medallions with incredulous origin stories won’t cut it. Toss cash and apologies. You had a solid run. Leave while really impressionable tweens who struggle with mathematics still have you on top. There’s always the comeback tour.
The social media phenomenon of pre-pubescent Maddie Ziegler is based entirely around her remarkably advanced interpretive dancing skills. Let’s all believe that together. Maddie’s work is typically her twelve year old self in nude material rolling around on beds portraying the underaged angst of sexually repressed and emotionally tortured grown women. Occasionally she gets to fend off a naked Shia LaBeouf. Or this new piece, Lucky Thirteen, narrated by Chloe Sevigny just to let you know it’s not the least bit to do with alt-teen Kids behavior.
The video portrays a woman looking back on her middle school years happy she was a weird outcast so she didn’t grow up to go to state school and get a government office job. The only real option of the kids who combed their hair in middle school. Rather she can grow up to be a dancer or actress or jade jewelry artist since her parents are still paying her rent at thirty. If you look closely you can see Maddie’s mom off to stage right encouraging her daughter to show skin to win. If it helps sell more clothes to teen girls, we’ll have to agree it’s all worthwhile. Women and women and girl’s fashion remains the height of unchallenged pedophillic social marketing in the culture. Stephen Collins and Jared were set up. Free the tender hearts.
Albanian TV news is not something you enter lightly. It takes journalistic talent, the ability to pretend Albanian is a real language, and some heaving amount of tits. The 21-year old Enki Bracaj showed up for her screen test with her massive tubes about to fall out of her top. It was a ten second intro to a news piece on something Albanian nobody cares about, but Bracaj caught the attention of every single literal dick in the building and was hired to do whatever the hell she wanted at the station. Critics are calling out the ridiculousness of hiring a chick to report the news simply because she has an amazing rack while others are asking the critics if they’ve never ever watched news on TV before. It’s racially diverse male anchors across from big ole tits and crazy white teeth. This is the natural next step in the evolution of the medium. The perfectly coiffed caublasian and the savvy Albanian chick taking super deep breaths.
Azealia Banks was harassed on a Delta flight because she’s black and a woman and people can’t handle her truth to power. Or because she beat on some French tourists and called a male flight attendant a ‘fucking faggot’. Banks explained how the white power was the real culprit. Also how she can’t possibly be homophobic because she’s bisexual, naturally, her brother is trans, and all her employees are gay men. So basically how white guys mention they have tons of black friends to defend their racist statements. Well played.
Banks gets away shit that bloated white devil Alec Baldwin can only dream of in his racist homophobic drunken rants. Banks confuses keeping it real with being an asshole. Like blocking everybody else’s exit off a five hour Delta flight because you need some drama. That’s when the Air Marshall needs to step in and put two to the back of her head. Well all agree to step over the angry rapper chick to get the fuck out of here then explain to the authorities how she went for the Marshall’s gun. She’s black. They’ll buy it. She’ll appreciate the irony.
Professional wrestling is the fake sport with the real injuries, maiming, and death. It’s that sort of completely idiotic combination that has made the sport wildly popular among teenagers and grown men who drink twelve-packs of watered down beer because repeated pissing is part of the entertainment schedule.
WWE champion Seth Rollins needs to work on his in-ring pretend combat moves because he keeps injuring his opponents above the modest hematomas and lacerations called for in the Code of Conduct. Dude, you’re supposed to hit me in the abdomen, not the kidney, and the chair goes to the front of the head, not the temple where I die suddenly from stroke complications. Over the weekend Rollins launched the forever wrestling Sting into the turnbuckle causing the ancient grappler’s head to snap back and do some significant and career ending spinal damage. Not for nothing but Tom Cruise does his own stunts and looks like a million damn secretly gay dollars. Hone your craft, Rollins. These are actors who need to have working backs to slaughter their families in murder suicide travesties post-retirement. He’s going to let you win. We all read the script.
There are a bunch of industries that have a convention every year to talk about how awesome they are and hand out awards and make the hookers in the zip code just a little bit heavier in the purse. Maybe one M.D. gets up in Aspen every year and announces himself a living god, but it doesn’t happen thirty times in the evening with a sober audience applauding. Military men typically are humbled by their honors, shying away from any individual attention. Film and television actors truly believe they deserve the praise.
Viola Davis cried over her Emmy award for Best Lead Actress in a Drama Series after reciting some Harriet Tubman and talking about the scarcity of roles for minority actresses in Hollywood. Davis was followed by black actresses winning every single award.
Before you quote a famous dead person, ask yourself, would this same person quote me? How could Harriet Tubman fathom the hardship of scoring a seven figure acting gig? Do you realize what it takes to bypass the Venison Alfredo when dining at Spago, Tubman?
You’re both interested in helping liberate black people. Harriet Tubman risked her life dragging them hundreds of miles to freedom in the North. You’re giving a rehearsed speech at the Emmy’s in a Carmen Marc Valvo five thousand dollar gown. Who’s quoting who? Tubman doesn’t deserve you. She wasn’t even SAG.
Miss Colorado made history at the Miss America pageant over the weekend when for her talent portion of the contest she came out dressed in scrubs and made up a story about an Alzheimer patient she cared for in the hospital. Joe. He would frequently call Miss Colorado into his room late at night and quite lucidly ask her to reach up for the gauze on the very top shelf. You sly silver fox. Miss Colorado couldn’t actually change his bandages since she’s that kind of nurse that looks hot in scrubs but the risk management department quietly tells the real nurses not to let do or touch anything. The monologue was moving. But being a tall blond hot nurse is not a talent unless you’re getting boned by a doctor with a ponytail and everybody’s proof of age is being kept on file at a Mailboxes, Etc in Florida. Bring back the batons. Nice flight attendant wave. Next.
The population of Quatar is about eleven. Plus fifteen million Southeastern Asians to do their laundry and build Olympic Stadiums. Two of the nation’s finest found themselves moved to Beverly Hills because their dad or brother or uncle is a stupid diplomat or something in the U.S. Like all pissy Qataris, they took their million dollar race cars out into the residential streets around their mansion and almost killed a few kids while definitely killing their clutch. A breathless chubby cub reporter on the scene interviewed the dude who got out of the smoking Ferrari who told him he had diplomatic immunity and could get away with murder. Then he threw his cigarette at the pudgy Peter Parker and said Fuck America. That last part is only awesome because it’s so fucking Homeland.
The State Department is investigating the incident and lists its importance as somewhere between finding the missing Clinton emails and hosting a brunch for the new Surinamese Prime Minister coming to see the baby pandas. Previously, diplomatic immunity has only been used by foreign consulars to get out of shitloads of parking citations and score tickets to Martina McBride concerts. Running down a cute American kid on a trike could set off an international incident requiring apologies and formal gifting like never seen before. Sugar in the gas tank would be a shortcut. Nuking Qatar should be a go-to backup. Obama, get on this shit. I want to feel safe again in Beverly Hills.
Taylor Swift survived more scary shit that didn’t actually happen when some weisenheimer pulled the fire alarm at her Houston concert venue when it was announced Wiz Khalifa would be performing as a special guest. That shit doesn’t fly in Texas. Call it brain dead racism. It means less Wiz Khalifa.
Taylor did want all dullards Millennials raised on social media do during a time of alarm and crisis, she started filming herself during the arena evacuation. The center of the universe must be documented. Swift’s mom is heard in the background begging her daughter to put on some real clothes on before exiting the building because offering motherly advice a decade too late seemed appropriate. Keep trying, karma. You’re getting warmer.
Tyga wrote a song about how ‘Stimulated’ he gets for teen pussy. It’s a love song of sorts for Kylie Jenner who tries to appear natural in the video even as her low credit score rapper boyfriend is scratching out Jared Fogle inspired lyrics on his detective notepad.
They say she young, I shoulda waited She a big girl, dog, when she stimulated She a big girl, dog I’m gonna do what the fuck I wanna do when I wanna do She a big girl, dog I’m puttin’ in, I’m penetratin I’m gettin’ big, I’m stimulated.
Now that it’s in music video format, everybody can act up in arms about the statutory rape that nobody cared about before. It’s Calabasas, Jake. Mom wants her kids to fuck for fame. Vagina Dad wants to eat crackers off a dick. And Child Protective Services doesn’t care to remember the entry codes at gated communities. Why not write a song about fucking teen girls? Call it My Baby Making Black Thunder Cock Is Banging White High School Girls and You Can’t Do Shit. You’ve already won. Take a lap.
Taylor Swift’s world tour marketed to 12 year old chicks and incompetent fathers is basically a classier and less rapey version of one of those roofless celebrity watching vans that patrol the streets of Hollywood looking for discarded bakery items and a guy who looks like Jeff Daniels. Was that him? Or a dentist. Maybe it was Bill Pullman. Fuck it when is Disneyland I’ve got to blow half my salary to prove the kids love me. Even the fat one. To date Swift has paraded the following celebrity guests on stage with her: Selena Gomez, Justin Timberlake, Ryan Tedder, Ellen DeGeneres, Kobe Bryant, Natalie Maines, Lisa Kudrow, Uzo Aduba, Alanis Morisette, John Legend, Beck, St Vincent, Mary J Blige, Chris Rock, Matt LeBlanc, and Mark Hamill.
For perspective on how ridiculous this is, only Hamill was a joke. Clearly there’s a pecking order. When’s Indianapolis, let’s chopper in Emilio Estevez. We can’t get him? Howie Mandel. We can’t get him, Dave Thomas. He’s dead? Chris Kattan. Tell Springsteen we had to cancel, we just confirmed Eli Manning. Are you paying these people and how many of these songs have you rehearsed? Is this about the music or about sight gags for an otherwise unwatchable show? Will people remember any of your songs or is the water cooler talk purely LeBlanc? What the fuck is happening? Nice body type though.
Miley Cyrus takes a lot of shit for being a sexually fluid marmoset with giant teeth that won’t shut the fuck up. But Cyrus understand the fundamentals of her business more than most. She dissects personality versus singer and why she isn’t covering her hick family of twenty-nine off the latter. Her trashy behavior is what Malcolm Forbes would be doing if he were alive today. Same outfits too. She doesn’t grind away on Robin Thicke’s shiny vest cock at the MTV VMAs and become the single most searched name on Google by happenstance. Tonight she ‘accidentally’ flashed her full titty on national TV to millions of kids for whom lady nipples kill worse than peanuts. There’s a hundred million dollars worth of reasons why. She’s gaming the system like a fucking champ. Do you want Anne Hathaway hosting your fucking awards show or Miley Cyrus? Bring on the crazy circus freak. I want my MTV.
When Matt and I set out to do a podcast because absolutely nobody asked, we figured we’d do two or three before a kindly janitor walked into the room and told us we had to go do something more important with our lives. It never happened. I know grown men who are proud of their big shits. I’d like to think we’re somewhere between that and real achievement.
This week’s Last Men on Earth Podcast features a discussion of the Ashley Madison judgmental crowd, the Bieber lookalike who everybody watched slowly die, and something to do with Terence Howard going into TV purgatory. It’s all there if only you believe.
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If a grown man spends fifty bucks for a blowjob, he gets arrested. If he spends a hundred thousand dollars on disfiguring plastic surgery, he gets a reality show. Tobias Strebel’s circle of friends watched grinning as he turned himself into mentally disturbed imitation of the world’s most disliked teen lesbian singer. That’s so Tobias. Now he’s 35 and found dead with drugs in a Valley motel room. The police are claiming his runaway binge may have been triggered by the breakup with his boyfriend. Nobody is suggesting that he was in massive need of a rubber room rather than a TLC and E! contract and doctors looking the other way for cash payments. At some point we made boxers wear gloves so they could live a few years past their last fight. We pretend to be humane to our freaks and gladiators. Nobody pretended with Tobias Strebel. Meh, my heart is too big for this world.
Swedish model Agnes Hedengard took to YouTube to complain about the fact the modeling industry won’t hire her because they say her hips and ass are too big for fashion. An open letter to prospective employers about what loser assholes they are is almost certainly going to get you more bookings. On the face of it, I mean, staring at her ass, it seems absurd that Hedengard is considered too wide to model. She’s properly starved herself down to a 17.5% BMI which usually qualifies. Which likely means the hips and ass thing is just an excuse the agencies are giving her because they don’t want her for other reasons.
She’s nineteen, she might be too old. She still believes you have to look into an iPhone to make it take pictures. And, she’s Swedish and those accents aren’t trending big like Czech and Namibian. I wanted to be a major league baseball player but everybody told me I couldn’t hit a breaking ball or field all that well. I didn’t whine about it. I drank and had meaningless sex with a number of unattractive partners. Agnes, if you go that direction, look me up. I will make you hate yourself for so many other reasons than not being fat.
We didn’t need another example of the fact Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters are pretty fucking cool for old guys. Let’s just say your girl would definitely bang him. You’d have to watch. The guys were in Kansas City, a stronghold of the deranged cult known as the Westboro Baptist Church which is convinced God is killing soldiers to get back at humanity for butt fucking each other and ordering lemons with their beers. The Foo Fighters showed up to their protest in the back of a pick up with a chubby dude wearing speedos and blasted Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up, a popular activity known as Rick Rolling which was actually getting really old until this happened. The cult members more than likely will now begin worshipping Astley as a demigod and become convinced 9/11 was in response to Grohl’s beard. Crazy doesn’t always make sense. I’d step up security.
If you all got a crew, you got to have a fall guy in the crew. If you all have a crew, one of those fools got to know, he’s the one going to jail. We’ll get him out.
In a recent interview Chris Borland prematurely retired of the 49ers mentioned how the comment shocked him when he heard it at the 2014 event. That’s also when the NFL learned the video with Cris Carter’s comments was still sitting live on their website. They responded by quickly punching the video in the face then smothering it to death.
Despite the fact that BJ hooker confessor Warren Sapp is heard amen-ing Cris Carter’s fall guy advice on the tape, isn’t this actually solid advice? It’s one thing to stand up in front of a group that contains at least one-third pure hoodlum destined for arrest and tell them to be good citizens and watch their behavior. That’s never worked. Much more practical to let them know that when the domestic abuse or running drugs or automatic weapons and sexual assault charges occur, let Benny from P.S. 173 know that you’ll hook him up solid for doing your time. Tackles don’t happen by themselves. Sometimes touchdowns do. Listen to Cris Carter. And somebody please shoot the guy with the camera.
The Today Show wanted to cement their obvious kinship with the plight of Black America so they invited a black singer to perform her song honoring the BlackLivesMatter hashtag. As Janelle Monae was winding up and segueing into her police brutality and racial profiling sermon, the Today show switched audio to the pale Australian chick back in the studio so you couldn’t hear the crazy negro ranting. I remember a day when being a politically correct news outlet was pretty simple. Run it by the vegan chick in the art department and see if she gets hives. Now the national media are wrapping rings of ambiguity around their own soft-serve decision making. We want to send mad props out to the victimized black folk, but we can’t really have a black chick getting all Panthers on our national broadcast or we lose Indiana and Arizona. Let’s run a car wash in our next life. #RatingsMatter.
Remember when so-and-so died and then we all wished somebody had recorded his collective wisdom before he vanished? I’m not letting that happen with Kylie Jenner. Don’t believe the glossy tit bunny on parade public persona. This seventeen year old self-educated author and marketing savant is working her deep thoughts on the down low. You have to dive into her late night snapchats to get a true sense of Ayn Rand meets Emily Dickinson meets the escort who fucked Elliot Spitzer then turned in his bad check because whores think poorly. Get your shine on girl. The sperm bucket moniker isn’t a weight, it’s a catapult.
Maitland Ward dressed up as a green Star Trek character to attend Comic Con. It’s odd aliens look exactly like humans except they’re green or wear a headband as their sunglasses or a shoe on their head. While her behavior would not be noteworthy on face value, she also made a video and posted a series of photos where you can see her genitals. I think redheads are probably the devil’s henchmen and should be avoided at all costs but these are pretty hot. Think porn but less assne. Ward did the same thing last year and probably got fucked by a klingon on the changing table of a public bathroom. I’ll never be able to look at Boy Meets World the same way again. Meaning I’ve never watched it and will continue that trend. Nice asshole.