III

I don't know if you're familiar with VH1, but they have this show called "The Pickup Artist" where this date-rapist named Mystery convinces guys that they're essentially worthless, forces them to grow soul patches and apply eyebrow piercings, and then, in all of their awkward misguided testoterage marches them into clubs to seduce women. It's absolutely the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen on television, mainly because some of the women actually buy these moron's fucking double entendres and horrible, horrible pick-up lines about astronaut pants and fireman's poles. I've sold a lot of snake-oil in my time, but this is on a whole other level. That is why I'm pretty convinced that the show is a big stupid set-up by VH1, and the girls are paid to listen to these cockrings and pretend to be into them, and that this Mystery guy is blackmailing the fuck out of the network or some shit and they're just exploiting the hell out of him. Oh, this is what he looks like, in case you didn't know. He's wearing binoculars. I don't know who needs binoculars hung so nonchalantly around their neck, but apparently that was a demand that Mystery needed filled. Anyways, what started me writing this entry was what I found when I stumbled on Mystery's website. He sells training DVDs of his method for the low, low price of 68 dollars a piece. 68 dollars. Kids working for Nike have to work into their 70s for that kind of dough. And it's not like they're epic masterworks of cinema either. They're just hour long training videos. That's more than a dollar a minute to have this Mystery douche spout lies out of the television. I'm pretty sure even GHB is cheaper than that, which should really be a standard for instructional dating DVDs: if your product is more expensive than GHB, you really need cut some overhead or something. It's way easier to slip something in a Long Island Ice Tea than it is to make small talk.

I'm not quite done with VH1. Balancing out the sheer awkward toolishness of "The Pickup Artist" is a program called "Rock of Love: Charm School". I'm not sure if that colon is in the right place, but I'm not sure whether the colons of the women that appear on that show are in the right place either, given the way they whore themselves out to the random television watching public. In case you don't know, I'm implying that the women on the show willingly give themselves up to the beast of the brown, take a drive down Hershey highway, allow things up their butts. Basically the show is a misguided attempt to bring these dead-eyed rehab dropouts up to the social demands of the bottom rung of America. Not an unfathomable task, they merely need to follow some lax clothing standards, curb their filthy, filthy language, and fight the urge to "slap a bitch". Of course, these women do not rise to the challenge, and barely rise at all. They mill about the lavish house they are given to live in, drinking and trying to apply cover-up to the red in their necks. The worst part about the show is that people (namely, me) watch it. In fact, I'm positive that it is a fucking event south of the Mason-Dixon. Churchbells ring, schools let out early, businesses close, McCain rallies disband, all for the glory and magnificence of "Rock of Love: Charm School".

I remember when MTV first came on the air and played music videos. I remember when MTV started failing and VH1 picked up the slack. Now that VH1 is failing, where do I turn? FUSE? Are you fucking kidding me!? If I wanted to hear Saosin eight times on the hour, I'd still be...I'd be...fuck it, no one likes Saosin.

Final point: VH1 rearranged is H1V, which looks like HIV, which I'm POSITIVE everyone on "Rock of Love: Charm School" has.

II

So I've watched Andy Samberg's impression of Mark Wahlberg about a dozen times. It doesn't get any funnier each time, I just become more and more incredulous. The fact that he could do such an impression is impressive enough, but the fact that he convinced the writers to let him talk to animals for five minutes? What the fuck? Does Mark Wahlberg really talk to animals? Does he really want to say hello to my mother for him? Is he saying my mother is an animal? Why was The Happening so terrible? Do the giant harpy devil-winged beasts in the Max Payne trailer constitute animals? I thought he was like a hitman in that game. I'm sure the movie won't be as good as the ninety second trailer, because I'm pretty sure he won't be talking to donkeys, which is the only way that I'll watch him on screen again after The Happening.

I'm not sure why I write in this, considering that I hate people that do. Especially when they have no purpose for it. Although this is America, and I can blast as much of my word semen on the face of the internet as I want to. People actually think this stuff should be regulated. And by people, I mean Bill O'Reilly. If the internet was regulated, I would have never been able to say "word semen". Actually, if the internet was properly regulated, they would've probably told me to hyphenate it. Word-semen. Charles Dickens is the Peter North of word-semen. I think that's actually a 300 level class at my college.

The girls downstairs play Disturbia by Rhianna on ultimate-max-volume all the time, and because I live in a shitty apartment, it leaks through my floor and into my head. I bang my cane as hard as I can on the shitty shag carpet, but they don't get the message. Hopefully one day I'll stomp the floor so hard that my foot will go through the termite-infested ripoff wood and lodge itself in their ceiling so tight that the firemen will need the jaws of life to cut it off and the bloody foothole will stay in the ceiling because the landlord is so cheap remaining as a disgusting memory for them to keep their music down on Wednesday nights.

I have no right to complain, because while playing "drinking games" down there, I pushed a glass off the table to break it, denied that fact completely, and then threw a glass of Evan Williams and coke allll over their kitchen. Later I read from Cosmopolitan magazine's list of dirty sex techniques in my best Pete Sampras voice.

But Disturbia?

I quote Coach Herman Boone: "If you drop the ball, you run a mile. If you miss a blocking assignment, you run a mile. If you play Disturbia ecstasy-rave party loud on a Wednesday, I will break my foot off in your John Brown hind-floor and leave a disgusting bloody memory-socket."

I

Disclaimer: None of this has any purpose. Just like every other blog.

I watched the Presidential debate last night, and I'm glad I did. For a while, I was worried about the direction this country was heading. My friends, my faith has been completely restored. My friends, it is clear that if we do not elect John McCain, my friends, we will descend into utter chaos. Penny-abortions given by the staff writers of the Times on every street corner! Terrorists using our public pools! Billions of dollars going to purchase freedom-killing telescopes in Chicago! Can you believe this, my friends? That we are this close to the brink?! My friends! John McCain is a maverick. You've seen Top Gun, right? You know who wins that movie? Tom Cruise. Fuck Val Kilmer. Val Kilmer is a Washington insider, spending your hard earned liberty-dollars on pork-barrel legislation as we sit and breathe. You're going to sit there and tell me that Barack Obama wasn't the cause of 9/11? His middle name is "Hitler". Barack "Hitler" Obama. That is unelectable. You know John McCain's middle name? "POW". Just the sound, "POW". That spells experience. America needs experience. America needs experience more than ever now. My friends, experience is the most important thing in the history of the planet. Not just experience the concept, but the tangible object. We need experience points. We need them. To level-up our country. You just cannot elect a mere Lvl. 47 Obama to run this country. He doesn't even know Flamethrower yet. A Lvl. 72 McCain however, that's power you can trust. He earned his levels fighting in the high-grass of Vietnam. Barack Obama rare-candied his way to the top. My friends, I'm running out of time. However, the only way you're going to red-light my ass off of this internet is if you pry this keyboard from my cold, dead, white, Conservative, Christian, veteran, ancient skeletal handclaws.

I am so sorry.

PS - Blogger recommends that I label this post. However, it's suggestions are: scooters, vacation, fall. Who the fuck is writing a post that includes those three things? I understand fall and vacation, but scooters? Who is that guy? "Well fuck my ass, Columbus day is comin' up again, better break out the Razor? What?

PPS - I'm that guy.