I talked to the dude from Make me a Supermodel

So - as I was stripping into my skimpy white towel at the gym today, I noticed a thick Latin man to my right - it was none other than Cory Bautista (spelling) - one of the judges from the show.

Of course I had to ask if my suspicions were correct - so we got to talking.

Do you know this poor man received hate mail after they cut off Holly's hair?  Pretty amazing.  I also told him ever since Perry pulled that rant with his girlfriend (Baby, tell me  you love me right now before I get off the phone) he lost all his appeal.

He said the show is doing really well and of course I congratulated him and lied, telling him he looks FAB on camera.

Tune in bitches.

Quarterlife?

Marshall Herskovitz (My So Called Life, Thirty Something) has created a web series (now on NBC Sunday nights) about six twenty something creative people - the protagonist - is, obviously, a blogger.  

I mean - sure - the plot is semi-cheese and the musical selection throughout episode one was perfectly gray's anatomy I'm about to shed a tear style - but there is something about this show I like. Apparently there is a huge online following of other idiots watching it too.

I don't like the blogging protagonist - who videotapes herself and airs her friends' dirty laundry - then as her friends find out they like masturbate and talk about how they are either angry or as in the case with the boy she loves - decide the blog can be a learning tool to help them discover the "work in progress that they hate."

I dig the introspection and self absorbed nature of our generation.  I say watch - it could be worth it.

THE NICEST KID ON PLANET EARTH

This kid makes us smile.

Albanese Idol

I don't care what anybody says about Mary Sunshine aka Danny Noriega. He can sing - he is no match however for David Hernandez and the ultimate idol of my life David Archuleta (who I will predict now will win the whole show).

His rendition of "Imagine" yesterday brought me to a special place. Mayhap drug induced.

But back to Noriega - doesn't he look EXACTLY like Jessica Alba? He IS latina. Mirate puto!

I HOPE I am wrong

but I'd be an idiot not to admit that Barack was going to get the Democratic nod and then probably lose the national race. That said, since I would rather be hung by my scrotum then vote Republican, I have given up hope and decided to pick up the book - and understand how Audacious it is to have hope in the first place. The minute it sounds "sermon-y" I'm out.

POOR LITTLE CANADIAN

The Characters:

Fat Man on the L train wearing a "You Can Do It" hoodie.

Poor little immigrant girl with black hair and a bag that says some obscure designer name

Summation:

FM: Um, so is that your name on the bag.

PLIG: (Asian giggle) No.

FM: Well what is it?

PLIG: Oh, it's from a store in Canada

FM: (Burping) So what are you like French Canadian?

PLIG: (More giggling) No. Just Canadian (Did she just bat her eyelashes at this chump?)

FM: Like do you shop in Canada a lot?

PLIG: I guess

FM: Like you're so fucking hot, but you should have stayed in Canada though - it's clean and the people are like so fucking friendly.

Bobby Cutts Jr. Cries

I'm not sure why CNN dignified this with a story but Bobby Cutts Jr, who murdered his girlfriend and his unborn child, cried while pleading for his life yesterday.

Why?

Happy Birthday Mr. President

Everyone is talking all this shit about Lohan because she's still all over the press even though she has no major project to speak of. Who cares?! If I were her I would pocket every last coin I could muster before I slipped into the grips of heroin addiction.

Also, I think this shoot is rather pretty - sans her hideous skin cancer looking moles all over her shoulder blades. I thought I was the only one. There is still hope for me after all!

I don't know why everyone acts so SHOCKED that she shows a little nipple. Like were we under the assumption that she was classy to begin with and then took a sudden turn for the worst? I meannnnn.

Spark Plugs

So we had a little D list sighting last night circa 9:30 pm. The location: Union Square. The location location: The Coffee Shop?

Odd. So I'm with some friends from college cooking some drunk butts outside of a place mind you that wouldn't let someone in because they were slurping down a Tasti-D. Whatevs. So we decide to cook some butts and make fun of the host as he lets other losers in to his not so fabulous venue.

All the sudden I hear my fat friend spew from her blowhole: "Oh my god. You're Jordin Sparks - I LOVE you." Well if that wasn't enough to make me hang myself from one of the heating lamps, my other friend chimed in -"I voted for you."

Jordin was super gracious, however horrified she may have been.

She also looked way FLY-ER than I thought she would.

Who is this C*NT?!?

I mean - could you fucking vomit just from looking at this bitch? I'm personally offended at the idea of the sewer cap sized nipples under there.

This is "Shells." She fucked one of my best friends last night in Murray Hill (I know, he is a fucking loser) and she sent him this picture this morning with a note suggesting they watch a Sex and the City Marathon. I mean, say wha?

If you see this poor excuse for a woman on the street, SPIT on her. I mean work up a real good loogie with green phlegm and everything and envision it dripping off her saggy eye bag before executing.

I hate whores like this who are bat shit nuts. Boil your bunny nuts.

Happy Day after!

Guest Editor: Sarah E in the Hiz

Look at those locks! and that rack! Sarah has something to say about last night's Spicetastic NJ concert:

Kung Fu Fighting, Dancing Queens

Only one word can truly describe the pandemonium of positivity that ensued on Wednesday evening at the Izod Arena-- ZIGGAZAGAHHH! Nearly ten years after declaring girl power officially dead, the Spice Girls put aside their differences to prove that friendship never actually ends, delivering a true “show” in a marketplace that’s been decidedly vacant since the lights prematurely dimmed on the stage of Britney’s Onyx Hotel Tour. The sold out arena of screaming girls (and the gays who love them) pulsed with energy, throwing back to a decade earlier when the pop flowed freely and the pyrotechnics burned bright. The show opened (and closed) with “Spice Up Your Life” as the Roberto Cavalli clad five-some levitated in on elevated podiums, surrounded by an entourage of “Spice Boys” who, throughout the show, ran the gamut of carrying the ladies around to being shackled with sequined dog leashes, paraded by their respective bitches. They quintet quickly moved into sugary favorites like “Stop” and “Say You’ll Be There”, as twentysomething fans found that their long-abandoned hysteria still fit as snugly as a pair of Union Jack hotpants. The sequined ladies then dimmed the lights for a cheeky salute to the bedroom in “2 Become 1”, during which I was forced to come to terms that my teen dream to surrender my carnal treasure during this particular ballad would never actually be realized. Alas.



From there each Spice performed a solo act, with high points during Geri’s “It’s Raining Men”, Mel C’s club hit “I Turn To You” and Scary’s mock act of felacio on an unsuspecting male crowd member. The girls are surprisingly vocally solid, perhaps more so than in their heyday. However, while Posh roused the most raucous cheers throughout the show (and had the lowest BMI), she was the only Spice that declined to sing solo in favor of silently strutting down the catwalk stage to the tune of “Covergirl.”



After a few celebratory covers including “We Are Family” and “Celebrate”, the ladies of Spice finished strong with bouncy breakout hit “Wannabe”, bringing the crowd home in a rush of exaltation. And as the final confetti cannon blew, I decided, without a doubt, that despite the decade of maturity between me and my former self, I still want to be a Spice Girl when I grow up. Girl Power.

For Less Than a Pair of Diesel Jeans Per Year!

You can be like Madonna and Angelina too!

www.children.org has made it very easy by structuring their website like a suburban Shake-a-Paw.

Just go in, pick age, gender, country of poverty (by picture of course) and you've got yourself one of your own.

Natasha Mumba changed my life. Maybe Sdkhfsldkjglsdg can change yours too.

Just Cause I'm Lame

Note Lisa Turtle looks VERY African and AC Slater looks very dishwashery.

Jesse's ready to get on a pole and Screech is just itching to say "Dirty Sanchez."

Happy Valentine's Day

Remember to eat lots and lots of CANDY.

I haven't been whale watching in a while.

Big ups to Chrissy B. on the west coast tilt. Happy Bday noobs. No cutting.

Melts in Your Mouth

This Dildo - who has been around allegedly for the last ten years (does anyone really care except the ladies from NJ who come in wearing MooMoos and Chinatown flats to see Phantom of the Opera?) is suing M and M's for using his image (the image he has so diligently created) without his permission.

Even though he probably lives in a roach infested apartment in Hell's Kitchen and uses the same pair of FTLs for his daily performance, I kind of feel like he might be right.

He wants to sue them $100 Million though - which is the funniest part. Someone's "image" clearly ain't payin to heat the kitchen.

Robert Burke says he "risks his life on a daily basis to build his own American Dream." I didn't realize tourists had become so violent. What is Millie giving him bed sores from all the ass pinchin'?

The Real Criminals

I can't believe I haven't touched on this sooner.  I think it's because it has been cold, as we all know, even by NYC standards (clearly I'm not complaining since we've had like one cold day all winter - I know you bitches in your galoshes have managed to complain though and I'll let you have it).  Needless to say, everyone is all covered up and not showing their truest "long" comings.

The reason I thought of this is because my gym bag was randomly searched today by the police (not by any darling member of the MTA who I would have personally assassinated) and I was forced to explain why I had a wet flip flop in it - as if maybe I had doused it in some skin eating acid and planned to throw it in the face of an old woman with a goiter, just for kicks.  I was made to feel criminal - in other words. And UNNECESSARILY.

The real criminals, (as you'll soon find out when the weather breaks if you haven't already) are the dirtbag mother fuckers that pay absolutely NO attention to the well being of their hands and feet.  I'm no idiot.  I don't for one second believe that any absent minded slob who accidentally forgot to maitenance the nails on their hands and feet for the last six months have the intellectual  capacity to understand the relevance and necessity of taming other "wild" regions of the human body.  The "natural look" will never be cute people. It just won't. Well maybe on a lumberjack. But not on YOU.

I find it personally offensive when someone with bunyons, cankles, a potential corn and cement calluses on the heels of their feet wear sandals and smile in the summer time as if they just dipped them in a vat of aloe vera.  

I find it equally offensive when jagged, half bitten fingernails touch say, the end of the receipt that is handed to me in check out, or grace my neck accidentally on the subway.

Immediately, because I'm a sick fuck, I imagine these people in a sexual situation and try to understand how any human could possibly keep the moment going when one of these barnyard hogs releases their gnarley hoof from a ripe sock.

I also think these people are morally reprehensible, not just gross-and that their thoughts on any societal matter-political or otherwise-should be thrown by the wayside.

 If you can't even mow your own lawn, how do you expect me to cook up a chili dog in your backyard?

According to the BBC

Prices of hamsters have tripled in China as this year is the year of the rat and suddenly it is the must have pet. Makes sense. They bite, they're disgusting and they provide no affection to their owners at all.

Ni Hao!

8 Wins in a Row Makes Grandma Proud

I just love this fucking picture.

Note the stark contrast of the political backdrop "theme" and the strange Congo Bell she used when chanting about last night's sacrificial lamb. The cock is next.

I'm down with hip-hop

Michelle's gonna be in Luda's new rap video y'all.

I mean, what the F? Did anyone notice that during the South Carolina debacle that Mr. B grabbed his wife in a way that suggested he did her earlier that afternoon?

I for one couldn't help but smell a whiff of inappropriateness and Clinique Happy all over the two of them.

Look, he's getting the ticket and he has my vote I just....

All I can think about is the old Coolio jam: 1-2-3-4 get your woman on the floor, gotta gotta get up to get down.

I'm down I'm down. So's Michelle.

Let It Be

http://youtube.com/watch?v=pN7nn-OzzyE

Please check out the youtube link above for the BEST Grammy performance from earlier this week.

If I'm being completely honest with you a large part of me feels that if you peeled off my tissue paper Irish/Italian Euro skin - underneath you would find a four hundred pound black woman with a bad wig and a moist brow (mayhap a gold tooth as well).

I mean - I really FEEL it when a nice Rotund African American woman can blow out a lyric while simultaneously harnessing her ginormous boobs in a hideous wool ensemble from Sister Paterson's Boutique on a 165th Street.

She has to at least be able to read though. Right B-a-r-r-i-n-o?

The Poisonwood Bible

You down wit da Congo? Hell Yes Mamma Obama. More on this whack ass later.

Um - Throw up in my Gullet

Photo Courtesy of: Michael Skrepnickaption, National Academy of Sciences, AP

I have to show you this - was on AOL news this morning (I know, who the fuck reads AOL news)
Well this ugly thing was found in China (shocker) and had no teeth and gives GREAT MEANING to the evolution of winged vertebrates, SAYS THE ARTICLE.

Has anyone thought about whether or not this was just some radioactive experiment a fucked up little man named Choy conducted in his backyard when his mother wouldn't let him have another Hello Kitty pin?

From a purely uneducated and ignorant asshole perspective, I have to tell you that every time they find a "new species" and link it to some imaginary chain of evolution that they have built over time I always feel like - well maybe this was just one fucked up bird and not the key to our universal knowledge of origin.

Everyone knows we come from two people and God created all the rest of the bullshit (including fucked up bird) in about 8 days or some shit- big ups to Adam and Eve.

Once

Have any of you ever seen this movie?

I know it didn't get a lot of acclaim (thanks to Peter), but Fox Searchlight was very clever in purchasing this last year and putting it out. It tells the story of two unlikely musicians who almost fall in love and then go their separate ways and is told amidst an amazing cluster of songs that I believe were written and produced solely for the purposes of the movie. Each song, when dissected, is lyrically so so powerful - I think many of the words are haunting and true across all planes of life.

I think one of the reasons that the film strikes me so much is because I generally think that some of the most profound experiences with human interaction that we can have are with people that are not within our core group of family and friends. I have found in my own life that the people that cross your path for but a moment are those that can ultimately shape an important direction, idea, or outcome. Am I being idealistic?

Watch and find out.

I just saw

The fattest most hideous woman I have ever seen on 40th Street. She was wearing an actual animal around her and waddling at a pace a tortoise would gawk at. The best part was her three inch gray roots and hair that has been clearly gelled with a product from Rickie's!

Isn't she Pretty

Ladies and Gentlemen - I bring you Lora Helstrom.

We were in a Justin Guarini photoshoot once. True Story.

Fashion Rocks?

Photo Source: Chris Petersen

Maybe I'm just really disgusting and have never known it. So it's fashion week, and like I get that maybe I can't afford to have a completely designer wardrobe and I also get that a good deal of people that can afford a complete designer wardrobe do so hideously and with great disdain, I look at them and laugh.

There is something about walking by the Bryant Park tents every day though...like when I walk by a fashion zombie suddenly feel like I'm dressed completely in K-mart and not as a young, urban stylish stud. What is it about these ugly robots and their ascots that gets me down?

The MTA Sucks Again!

So after leaving the voting booth this morning, I felt pretty hungry for democracy - I was feeling very Ben Franklin in buckle shoes. I even was going to be early for work after sleeping in two hour pockets across the night. I kept having bad dreams that Obama was eating me while Michelle watched.

Anyway, so I'm feeling all democratically proud and in my morning fog I accidentally got on the Brooklyn Bound track of the L train. I got so far as swiping my monthly metro card and then proceeded to walk down the stairs before screaming "Fuck!" and knocking over an old woman to go to the correct side.

Imagine my being appalled when I approach the "help station" in an ever-so-friendly way to be greeted by a not-so-friendly thug who could barely speak English - all in an effort to be allowed to enter on the Manhattan bound side of the L track (for those of you not familiar with the monthly card, once you swipe it, it cannot be swiped again in a train turnstyle until it resets).

Reenactment:

Knock on glass.
Thug turns down music. "Yah," he murmurs.
"Hello there. I'm so sorry to bother you but I accidentally went down on the Brooklyn bound side of the train and I have a monthly card. If you could verify it is a monthly and let me through that would be very helpful."
Thug replies: 18 minutes suh.
"I'm sorry?"
Thug replies: 18 minutes suh.
"No, but I just need to go through I swiped my card accidentally on the other side and I don't want to be late for work."
Thug smirks.
Thug replies: Oh, someone else probably did this for you before right?
Relief. "Yes, strange thug man. Yes! people do this for other people so they can proceed onward with their commute."
More smirking from thug.
Thug Replies: I can't do that. 18 minutes suh. Thug proceeds to refocus his attention on a pregnant 15 year old girl who could have very well been his "boo."

Sweat appears on my brow. I narrow my focus.

"Suh, I really need to get through the turnstyle, what is the big deal about letting me through."

Thug looks angry like maybe if I fed him a blunt he would change his mind but since I am empty handed and making fun at his inability to articulate sentences our time is done.

I said 18 minutes suh, das why, thug replies.

You're a fucking scumbag, I reply.

Now, bare in mind that SECONDS later - I shoved my sweat stained metro card in an M15 bus and had NO FUCKING PROBLEM. Who makes these rules MTA thug man?

Vote For Hillary

She's fly. And you know it.