You know what?

If I said that really condescendingly it would be a good insult, but if I say it with a smile it sounds like I am about to tell you something, and I am! There is one thing I like to do before I sit down to write blogs. Nope, guess again, I like to put on some groovy tunes! Well, hey, let’s get real: it’s about a week into December and from what I can remember I am getting weak in the knees with anticipation. Am I anticipating the antifreeze? No! I’m anticipating the poinsettias, mistletoe, wreaths, ivy, holly and evergreens! As I began this blog I put on one of my all time favorite Christmas songs: “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

Go ahead and press play there, it makes a good background track.

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After a brief hiatus, we’re back and better than ever. Here’s a strong podcast from James and me. I interviewed Cherie Lily (see below), Tayisha Busay, Andrew Strasser and Bad Brilliance at Santos Party House. Then, we covered the news in about two minutes, you get to hear some music from Tomorrow’s Outlook and we wrap it up by talking about the worst lyrics ever. Feel free to add your own to the comments.

Click here for .mp3

Songs featured:

The Trooper Believer – DJ Schmolli
WTF (You Doin in My Mouth)? – Tayisha Busay
Quack Head – Bad Brilliance
Liquid Scream – Tomorrow’s Outlook

Here’s our dimly lit and awful sounding interview with the bright and beautiful sounding Cherie Lily:

Most readers are probably expecting me to bash Perez Hilton over the upsetting video he posted in regard to the savage beating he apparently suffered the other night. Well, expect no more! Here it is.

For those who aren’t aware of what happened, here’s the brave little man explaining the situation in his own words. For those who rightfully don’t give a rat’s ass about what this pansy does or says, please bear with me on this one. I guess at some point over the weekend some music thing happened and at an after-party, poorly named rapper Will.I.Am of the Black Eye Peas approached Mz. Hilton and politely requested “in the future, can you please be a pal and not post anything at all about my band?” to which Mario Armando Lavandeira replied (and this is somewhat accurate): “Not if my life depended on it. Fuck you in your gay ass, you faggot scum.” Shortly thereafter an event occured that was a surprise to no one except Mr. Lavandeira – he got repeatedly punched in the face by someone associated with Will.I.Am.

I have no problem with Perez Hilton – if you can make a living off adding poorly drawn dicks to pictures, I’m all for it. In fact, I used to read his blod fairly often, when I was a younger, dumber asshole than I am today. But for him to be shocked that someone finally decided to take a swing at him is absolutely fucking insane. And to twitter people to call the police for him is more outrageous than him parading around like some sort of gay activist. This jackass could very well be the poster boy for why gay marriage is not legal throughout the United States.

So anyway, in tribute to the site that will one day be featured on “I Love June through October 2007″ on VH1, I decided to make some pictures myself, and instead of just attaching some lame attempt at sounding in-the-know like Perez so often does, I’ll elaborate on my art for my faithful readers. Here goes nothing…

When did looking like the Dutch Boy Paint mascot become fashionable?

A nice easy one down the middle for ya. It’s simple and very direct. In my opinion (and the opinion of roughly 100% of the rest of the American population), anyone who wears a shower cap and a faux-fur coat anywhere outside of his own panic room should have the word “ASS” tattooed on their awful forehead. An earlier draft of this picture has the showercap providing him shelter from a cum-storm. Ultimately, I felt that if I wanted the word “ASS” to have the biggest possible impact I should just give it the spotlight.

I know he’s under the impression that he’s a skinny gay guy now, but Mario, or Mary as I like to call him around the pool house, used to be a big fat bitch. My girlfriend and I recently took a trip to the desolate wasteland of the American Mid-West and made a stop at the Columbus Zoo, which was actually pretty cool. The best part? The freakishly giant nipples on the nursing gorillas. The worst part? Waking up from our mescaline-induced coma to realize we weren’t anywhere near Columbus and in reality we had been ogling Perez Hilton shirtless on Fire Island.

I made this one in case you couldn’t put together the last joke on your own.

Both taken at Wal-Mart while the creepy photographer pulled a wrinkled coin purse out of the secret pocket in the front of his trousers and offered Perez a giant sucker if he would take pictures like a nice boy.

One of my favorite things to do in my own posts is to take pictures of things that are similiar and just mush ‘em together. I think it’s a more effective way of getting my point across than trying to actually explain it to the jobless retards intelligent, contributing-to-society socialites who read this blog. This one may be a first though. I’ve compared Barack Obama to Andy Dufresne, a shitbag D.A. to Louie Anderson, etc., but I’ve never encountered a douche so awful it would be an insult to compare him to himself.

This really needed to happen though. I have a friend who always flashes the same half-hearted smile when someone takes a picture of her and I give her endless amounts of shit for it. Luck for Perez, I’m feeling a bit under the weather today (homophobia::SNIFF:: ) and I’m afraid if I give him any sort of access to my asshole, I won’t be able to sit for a week or so…

Also, I think the “(ANALLY)” added to “Tame Me” is fucking hysterical. If you don’t agree, close your browser and remove your sex organs with a bicycle chain.

This one’s a bit more on track. After I showed mind boggling amount of restraint I displayed in the “ASS” photo, I decided to let it all hang out on this one. And by “all” I mean a half a dozen dicks either entering or sprouting from a particularly close-up bust of Lavandeira. For some reason, this picture reminds me of the only time my mother caught me masturbating. Weird.

One thing I have a huge problem with in Perez Hilton’s pictures is his lack of wit when it comes to the text. “EW” “ACK” and “YUMMY” are not good enough indicator of how he feels about a particular celebrity or how other people might imagine that celebrity views him or herself. I took the opportunity to spell out to Perez what his (hopefully dead and therefore no longer able to reproduce) parents probably think of him. Nothing.

Finally, I think this is truly my pinnacle as a fuckstick celebrity blogger. I mean, comparing Perez Hilton in the previous pictures to the Dutch Boy Paint mascot, a gorilla, and himself were all pretty genius, but to come up with John “who?” Daly was a stroke of genius. Then, to take those two similar pictures and pit them against one another just took everything to the next level.

For those of you who don’t know, John Daly is a pathetic shell of a professional golfer who actually has an alcoholic drink named after him (it’s also known as a Dirty Arnold Palmer, but that’s for another obviously hilarious post). In my opinion, in his never ending quest to get fucked up, John Daly has displayed more backbone and a more winning attitude than Mario Armando Lavandeira ever has or ever will.

Perez Hilton, I sincerely hope you die. Soon.

Here’s a gallery of all the previous pictures plus 13 that Roy added:

perez_hilton_01

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Hello internet world, its me, your American Hero with another movie review. This time I’m soder and ready to rip the shizzle out of one of the worst movies of all-time. So hold onto your keyboards as I go off on this terrible movie.

So I get to the theatre a little outside San Jose to see The Knowing. I knew very little about the movie except that it was about the end of the world and one of my favorite actors, Nicolas Cage, was in it. So I was pretty amped up for this movie and ready for Nicky boi to put an end to the end of the world. So after buying my ticket at the great price of 4.50!…unheard of in San Jose…I got some popcorn and a little so-derrr pop and headed into the theatre.

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I was reading some Bill Faulkner today and was thinking about how terrible it would be to be someone else’s slave. I already have trouble doing things for myself. If my job was to fulfill the demands of someone else as well, I would have to file for unemployment. Except, too bad, I can’t because I’m a slave.

Now the idea that being a slave is not the best has been said again and again. It’s an idea that has been pounded into the social-consciousness since, I would say, at least 1989. As I continued to read this Faulkner novel (I should note that the people in Faulkner’s book were servants, not slaves, but I would still not be jumping at the opportunity to be a servant), I tried to think of things that could make being a slave even worse. Why I decided to think this, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I saw Saw IV last night and my mind has just been turning everything more tortuous. I came up with a couple options. One: you get impregnated by someone who is not a slave, but is a total dick, preferably the town sheriff. That would make matters much worse, but I can’t get pregnant, at least not with the technology available in slave-times. (Side-note: A really terrible themed restaurant would be one that follows the basic format of Medieval Times but is called Slave Times). Two: If I were a slave, but I also had a very developed case of alcoholism.

Someone is dying for a Margarita.

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This post was written for SmartassRadio 1.0 – and it has remained hidden somewhere in my hard drive between “Slutty Squirters 3″ and “Terminator 3″ (both equally erotic for eerily similar reasons). Today is the day I got the new album, Cult of Static. While I ponder my review, you can read this little ditty, which was written in October of ’07. It’s not my best writing, but it did lay the groundwork for this masterpiece. – DJ

This week I’m gonna have to go ahead and tell you to not listen to the entire Static X catalogue. I went to see the Operation Annihilation Tour on October 16th and they were far and away the lowest point of the show. And they were headlining. Even fat Dino from Fear Factory’s new band Devine Heresy kicked the living crap out of Wayne Static and their lead singer had a broken leg. Now, I’m not one to base much on a name or look (I love Skeletonwitch and Gwar (update: let’s put Dance Club Massacre annnnd Avenged Sevenfold in here -ed.)) but Static X definitely has the worst of both worlds. Frank has the right idea in that no band should have the letter X as a full word in their name. I love Symphony X but if they had a different name I’d love em even more.

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I realize there are a few flaws in this post. First, no one cares about my opinion on the subject. Second, it should have been written in 1994. In any event, this is what you get today.

I just got into Biggie recently (totally excellent coincidence with the movie release). I downloaded the discog and I actually really love most of it. I always thought I disliked him for some reason, but I guess I don’t. Tupac’s music, on the other hand, I hate with a burning passion. I find Notorious B.I.G. to be, for the most part, clever and really fun to listen to, which is exactly what I want from hip hop. However, there is a glaring defect in almost every song: Sean Combs.

You can probably put any hip hop artist on the left and this would hold true.

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