How About Some More Crap You Can Read?

Here you can read about crap, stuff, or whatever you want to call whatever I write.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Maybe The Next One Will Be Pauly Shore?

Is “The Bachelor” (who?) the most beaten-to-death show ever yet? I mean, at first they had some guys who were basically average guys. Then they had the Firestone guy who’s a millionaire from Firestone Tires, Firestone Beer (which I may have to have my mom pick up some for me while she’s in California), and Firestone Wine. Then they had some scrub football player. I don’t even know who they had after that. But now, they have some guy who is maybe at the same celebrity level of the weekend weatherman from Idaho Falls, and is only at that level because his brother played Kush in “Jerry McGuire”. Wow, what a catch ladies! You may want to hold out on going for this guy though. Maybe next season they’ll have the son of the guy who played the non-Paul Reiser dad on “My Two Dads”. You wouldn’t want to blow that chance.

The turn signal’s there for a reason, honey!!!!!

The band Queen is touring for the first time without Freddie Mercury, who died in 1991. The vocalist will instead be Paul Rodgers from the band Free (“All Right Now”). This seems like one really, really, really bad idea. Why don’t the surviving members of The Doors just go on tour now too with Boy George replacing Jim Morrison? That makes about as much sense to me. I think I heard Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl are reuniting Nirvana with Stacey Q as their lead singer. How sweet would that be?

In the Michael Jackson case, if you had Macaulay Culkin as the first former child star to be subpoenaed to testify whether or not they were sexually abused by Michael Jackson, you are one sick fucker for betting on that! Your 2-to-1 bet beat out the favorite, Emmanuel Lewis (who had 8-to-5 odds), in a mild upset, but you still should be ashamed on yourself for being such a gambling degenerate who’d bet on a famous pedophile’s high-profile court case!

Someday, I will no longer be a phlegm factory. And when that day comes, I will be happy. Until then, don’t look in my work trash can if you know what’s good for you.


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