Stalking Pays Off

Damn that Burger King guy!

You've seen the commercials where he just shows up at someone's window with some kind of breakfast sandwich that actually causes your arteries to harden AS you eat it. Nonetheless, as I have preached and preached and preached....you can even be a creepy, no talking freak but if you show up at enough windows with food, some girl is gonna go for it.

But how did he get to Jessica frickin' Alba's window? I tried and I got hit 8 times with a taser before I could get across her fence. I bet he gave the guards a bunch of Whoppers with cheese. Bastard. I would have brought over a grill and slaughtered cattle in her yard all day long if she would have just asked. I bet that pansy ass Burger King stalker never even took on a long horned steer. Phony ass, son of a .....

Oh wait....that's not the BK guy. That's Shrek.... errr, Austin Powers....errrr....some damn Mike Myers character. I still stand by everything I said. He probably brought her fat ass some food. Gobble it down Jessica McFatty. I bet if I cut you that gravy would come out. You disgust me. But, if you call me, I might take all that back and say you are really pretty.

Who Wants to be Abused?

I want you listeners to get behind a wonderful charity that’s near and dear to my heart. I’m talking about the Patrick the Needy, Needy Viewer fund. The fact is, this station is too damned cheap to pay me so I’m Broker than a boatload of Cuban refugees. !00% of every donation you make goes to support my pathetic lifestyle. Your donation helps with things like a new set of hubcaps for my Sunfire, a computer with something more current than Windows 98, underwear without holes in the ass or maybe just a pack of ramen noodles so I don’t become the Hungry, Hungry Viewer. And it’s so easy to help! When you log on to Corey and Jay’s website to listen to my rants you’ll see the donation button right there. As an added bonus, for every donation made I will send you personalized verbal abuse via email. Donations over $20 will be assaulted via telephone. Imagine telling your friends that The Angry Viewer abused you. What a proud moment. Don’t be a cheap bastard. Help me today. Paypal is standing by. http://www.coreyandjayshow.com/ANGRYINDEX.html

The Kid is Doomed

This one has my temper shorter than Dennis Kusinich in a booster seat at Shoneys. Let’s all congratulate Anthony Kiedis, lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and his girlfriend who just had a baby boy. His name? Everly Bear.

The Pepper singer said, “It came to me by way of the Everly Brothers, which is one of my favorite bands,” His girlfriend, Heather Christie “came up with Bear. And Kiedis said, “That made sense to me because he’s from me and I feel like I’m part of the bear clan.”

Are you frickin’ kidding me?

Bear Clan? I hate to break it to you, Anthony, but you’re not even hairy. I wish to God I didn’t know that but during your 20 year career the only person with more naked appearances than you is Jenna Jameson. Speaking of Jenna, saying your part of the Bear Clan makes about as much sense as me saying I’m part of the Porn Star Clan. I mean, other than the fact that I’m hung like a tic tac and my endurance is just a little shorter than the time it takes to make toast I fit right in.

And is that really the best name you could come up with? Why didn’t you and Heather just name the kid Bong Hit or Acid Trip because apparently that’s what you were doing when you named him Everly Bear. Come on, you’re a frickin’ rocker, dude. That name’s gayer than Richard Simmons gym shorts. Damn, what were the runner ups? Toodles McRopesmoker? Clay Aiken Jr? Well get ready for a lot of trips to the ER because Everly Bear is destined to spend his playground life getting hit more times than Whitney Houston's crack pipe.

I’m setting my DVR to record COPS 18 years from now just so I can watch a grown up Everly Bear whip your ass.

Well, congratulations on the new baby anyway, dumbass

Kirsten Shreds For YOU!

Kirsten Dunst said, “Action movies entail sitting in a trailer all day and not doing anything. You get there at six in the morning, you get all dressed up, put your make-up on and it seeps into your pores all day long and it's really boring. I always have a lot of action in these films, and I don't like it.”

Boy I understand that. It must really suck to spend three months not doing very much and getting paid about SIX MILLION DOLLARS!

Are you frickin’ kidding me?

You’re complaining about getting paid to sit in an air conditioned trailer and do nothing all day. Hell, Corey and Jay have been doing that for years and you don’t here them complaining. Lemme tell you something, for six million dollars I’d be willing to spend the entire three months with my lips superglued to the director’s ass. I’d just ask to be released an hour each week so I could work over a pack or two of Dentyne Ice before I puckered up again.

And how the hell could you say you have nothing to do. Here’s an idea: Maybe everyone on the set could swing by when they have some downtime and you could use that isosceles triangle factory in the middle of your face to shred all of their old documents. Or maybe you could get in about 8 hours a day gnawing lumber for the set builders. Or how about this: Why don’t you shut that flappin’ cakehole before you say something else that's basically the equivalent of squattin down and unloading the Lincoln logs all over your audience.

Lindsay's Broke

This one has me more rattled than Rudy Giuliani at a Promise Keeper’s Rally. According to News of the World, In the past year, Lindsay Lohan has reportedly blown $7 million and is now completely broke.

Lindsay wasted $1 million on a year's stay at the Chateau Marmont hotel, $70,000 on tanning, $1 million on clothes, $500,000 on partying, $350,000 on cars, and $137,000 on her three trips to rehab.

Are you frickin’ kidding me?

How the hell can you could spend $70,000 on tanning? The only way you should be able to get close to that is if you were hitching a ride with NASA and laying out on the wing of the frickin’ space shuttle. And a million dollars on clothes? Have you seen the way she dresses? She must be getting ripped off because wherever she’s shopping doesn’t even supply enough fabric to cover her oval office. And you might think the least they could do is throw in a frickin’ bra every once in a while. Then again, maybe she’s buying her clothes from a Columbian cartel that weaves them out of 100% pure coca leaves. That way after she takes her shirt off, she can just chop it up and snort it. As a matter of fact, as much blow as she’s done she’s probably number one on the Drug Lord Christmas Card list.

Which brings me to her bill for rehab. Hell, that thing’s bigger than the entire gross national product of Zimbabwe and I still don’t think she’s really sober. But I have an idea about how to find out! I bet if you went out to Hollywood at about midnight and set up a giant mousetrap but instead of cheese you put a pile of uncut cocaine on it… when the sun came up you’d find ole Lindsay snapped in half with her nose about a half inch from the pile with a giant smile on her face. At least she would have died doing what she loved.

But, the good news for Lindsay is that a paycheck is probably in her near future since she just started filming her new movie Dare to Love Me about a legendary tango dancer from Buenos Aires. Dare to Love Me is the name of the movie? Do I really even need a punchline there? Dare is right. Because on your way to love her you better dare to hold up the convenience store for every condom they have or you’ll end up with something Terminix can’t get rid of. And whoever you are, stay away from the giant mouse trap.

That's wierd...

What in the heck is Lindsay Lohan doing with that guy from Criminal Minds. You know, the one with a chick's name....Mandy, or Mangie or whatever. I bet she thinks he really is a criminal profiler and she just asked him to find the person who stole her blow while she was in rehab. Here's how I think the conversation went:

Lindsay: Dude, like I know you are a supergenius and can track down any criminal. I need your help cuz somebody stole my effing blow and I effing need that effing stuff and I need it fast.

Criminal Minds dude: Yeah, Lindsay, see (exhasperated sigh)...I just play that role on TV. I also was in Elmo in Grouchland but I'm not really a bad guy.

Lindsay: Ooooooh. I loved that movie. I bet Mr. Snuffalufagus is seriously packing some man meat. But...really, come on, I need your help. Who do you think took my blow?

Criminal Minds dude: Ummmmm, Lindsay, (uncontrollable snicker), Mr. Snuffalufagus is a puppet.

Lindsay: Oh shit. For real? Wow. Wait, are you gonna try and tell me Big Bird is not real either because I'm not buying that bullshit. Quit effing with me, dude, and use your profiler skills to help. Now, who do you think took my blow.

Criminal Minds dude: If I tell you my hunch will you promise to never, ever, ever call me again?

Lindsay: (scratches own cooter, looks thoughtful) Sure.

Criminal Minds dude: I think it was your mom.

Lindsay: I knew it! That whore! She takes everything! She stole my last two boyfriends and my best lip gloss, too. I will kill that bitch!

CORRECTION: The man in the picture is ACTUALLY her dad. My mistake, yet, I still think the conversation went almost exactly the same.