Consider yourself warned still

Content warning proved to be too annoying, as firewalls were blocking people from looking at this work appropriate blog at work.

Fish Steew

Jamie Oliver, better known as the Naked Chef, had been my dreamboat for a very long time. I know he's married and has kids and all, but I started watching the cooking channel show way before I knew that. He fumbles erratically for homegrown ingredients around his rinky dink flat exclaiming things like, "and Bob's your uncle!" once he blanched some broccoli.

I went gaga when he pronounced Herbs with a hard 'H,' and making the word Basil like a sheep—BAAsil. HOT.

His endearing dorkiness for food and fucked up lisp/stutter combo is what really did it for me. His sloppy Bart Simpson mouf and the miscevious glint in his eyes keyed me in that he goes super kinky with food in the bedroom.

Here's where it all went wrong:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3174278649926342867&q=jamie+oliver&ei=ARyMSK6xMYzCqAPO3ImuBA

and: http://www.tradebit.com/filedetail.php/829028-Music




I've been out of the Naked Chef/ Cooking channel loop lately, so when I stumbled across these I was pretty much shocked. I trusted he was on a good grounded path. But Since when does the Naked Chef produce a painful Reggae song about lamb curry, or do backup vocals for a disney song about fish stew? In principle, I like them, but they are in actuallity a little too lame. They're written to capture an Oprah audience of 43 year old white women. I watched them clap along, but personally i think they were just being nice.

The lyrics go: "I wanna fish stew. I wanna move your body."

Um, not the kind of BR food fun i was thinking.

I'm so disappointed in him, and glad it didn't ever work out. What an a-hole sellout.

Here's a super rad sellout tribute portrait, complete w/ Bon Jovi Hair and purple lighting. You can zoom in and out to get an idea of that brilliant mug I used to know and love: http://www.tvscoop.tv/jamieoliver2.jpg

How Jesus Ruined Christmas

Every Christmas, my darling sister Lindy gives me and my sis Kacie charming token gifts from a West Hollywood gas station. Usually part of the appeal is opening them in front of our parents, so that they can share the delight in naked body builder lighters and xxx-mas cards that say "someone's blowing Santa Clause."

Last year it was this refrigerator magnet. When mom saw it, she lost her marbles. We/Lindy had hurt her very deeply and worse, hurt Jesus. Sis boned out for about 3 hours and we were afraid she wasn't coming back for Christmas brunch. It wasn't pretty, but I still think it was worth it.

I personally really like Gay J.

He lives inside my Scrabble.

I have to post this and express my gratitude to the big J for finally answering my prayer:

"Dear Precious Holy Father, please bring me a Bingo. If I am never granted anything from you ever again, it's fine with me. Just this once, Lord, I really need this to maintain my self-worth."

63 mothafuckin points, right out of the gates. Get on your knees, Matt H.

I can make you famous.

I want a Satan wedding.

So sad. My sister went to a wedding on the 4th, thinking she'd do a friend a favor and be his date. At least she'd get to drink a bunch for free, she'd said. Wear a nice dress a little wine, champagne a little dancing, cake, and it's a great way to spend any day of the year. But how can you celebrate two people's happiness if you're not drunk? Turned out it was a DRY wedding. A Christian dry wedding.

If there's ever a time when people should be allowed to get smashed, it's at a wedding. Obvious reasons are as follows:
1. People need alcohol to have fun.
2. People like alcohol.
3. It's the freaking 4th of July.

Yes there are other reasons as well like wedding toasts, nerves, 3rd and 4th marraiges, baggage, doubt, guilt, etc, but I really don't think that there is any reason in hell to turn a good wedding party into a pot luck dinner. Jesus drank wine - he made wine, according to the magic book - so why are you people so Goddamned uptight?

At least my sister reported that she got a chance to leave early, head straight for a bar, drink and drink and drink, and get rightfully hungover the next day.

Pee Shiver me Timbers!

So I recently heard of this thing called "Pee Shivers." It's the kind of thing you either know about because you have them, or because you happen to live with three guys who talk about things like the great sensations of peeing. Of course i was INSANELY jealous when they said that they get these "Pee Shivers" every time they pee, which feels just like an orgasm. The same feeling as orgasms! I've never wanted a penis so bad cause that is just no fucking fair. Tantrum-quality notfairnotfairnotfair.

But to end my hatred for God / my complete chromosome-happy father, i found out from a GIRL friend that she had them too. So at this point, i pretty much just hated the big J for making 83% of men and 58% of women have more fun going potty than me. Thinking that the unfairness of Pee Shivers is a titillating blog topic, i go to look up the shakes from a highly esteemed source, and WHAMMO! don't feel so bad anymore. In fact, I feel really awfully bad for all yall with this Myoclonus Disorder, which is actually a convulsion syndrome. Sounds pretty bad for you... Read it and weep.





http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-micturition_convulsion_syndrome
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myoclonus

Oh yes, AND, God bless Vons.

I got some new books recently. Actually I got them on Father's Day and read them to my parents while we were in the car on the way to the beach. They were not so captivated as I was when I found these goodies at, of all places, Vons market: From the Harlequin Expecting series, 'The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride' and 'The Spaniard's Pregnancy Proposal, Expecting!' From the Harlequin NASCAR Racing Series, I scored 'Forbidden Attraction' and 'Fully Engaged.' Who would have believed that they'd have such specialized romance novels nowadays. No one, which is why I present an excerpt from 'The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride':

Sergio ended his phone call and sat down at his glass desk. Only then did he notice the cleaner, who was down on her knees [bj reference] busily scrubbing the carpet [masturbation reference] on the other side of the office. The long hair clasped at her nape [s&m choking reference] was an eye-catching metallic mix of copper, amber, and auburn shades [stuff for the ladies].

'Thank you, that'll do,' he told her dismissively.
Kathy glanced up. [My name's Kathy too!] 'It'll stain if i leave it,' she warned.

She settled huge green eyes on him. They were fringed with lashes like a cartoon fawn's, Sergio found himself thinking abstractedly [I think he means Bambi, and I think abstractedly is not a word]. Her face was heart-shaped [Yes, ladies, hearts.] and unusual and so spectacular in its beauty that he who never stared at a woman stared. Even a shapeless overall could not conceal the grace of her slender long-legged figure. Just as quickly he was convinced that she could not posibly be an authentic cleaner. She had to be an out-of-work actress or a model [isn't this how every knocked-up housewife imagines herself?] Women that beautiful didn't scub floors for a living. How had she got [yes, not gotten] past security?

So that's how Sergio and Bambi met. FFWD to some quotes:

"All Kathy could think of was the threat of being sent back to prison."[Hey, I have an Aunt Kathy who was in prison!]

"There was a timeless moment of pure ecstacy and joy. In the sensual ripples of delight that followed, she felt wonderfully close to him, transformed and at peace. And then her brain kicked back into action and blew all those fine feelings away again. She rememered how things really were between them and felt angry, mortified, and earth-shatteringly bitter. [I'm so glad I'm not the only one!] As a deep sense of hurt threatened to surface she squashed ti glat and wrenched herself free of his arms in a fierce gesture of rejection. 'Can I leave now?'"

"..What if her worst fear came true and she was pregnant? Pregnant by a guy whom she hated like poison?"[Guess what, bitches!!]


So I officially hate that this book represents women who relate to this douchey lady Kathy, and I love that there is published proof that people are lame. So that's why I think I must become a romance novelist and lead the way for a self-improvement romance genre.

Good things come to those who work.

Why is working late so appealing? Nothing positive comes out of continually being at my computer post 12am. I mean it. My eyeballs are waving around, my left leg is asleep, and I've had to pee for 2 hours, but no, it's 5:12 and i'm making a very important blog post, so I'm staying put.

Thanks Facebook!

Hmmmm....So Facebook has an aggregate of advertisements tailored to my special needs, right alongside my Facebook profile. A friend said as soon as he hit 30 and was still single, he got bombed by 30+ and lonely dating services, while my MO right now is apparently trying not to be fat. Thanks for targeting me, Facebook. I guess if i expect to keep getting poked I have to lose the love handles and stand in a warmer light source.

Sex On the Beach

Ok, so it may at first appear as if this guy just got clipped by a crab at a nude beach, but he is in fact banging a chick, who is in the sand back there, upside down. But to see this girl get completely pummeled from the other side - it's perhaps the best thing that's ever happened at the beach, in the history of the beach. http://youporn.com/watch/49085

Was the sex so good that she didn't even notice the tide creeping in? I think hell no. I imagine that the Hank, after about 4 hours of filming in that position, was finally close to orgasm, and he and the crew were racing against the tide so that the freshly ruptured discs in Cindy's spine wouldn't be for not.

Which is why i can't control my hysteria as i watch this over, and over, and over, and over.