Got Milk for your Angry Daddy?

This one has me more inflamed than that time I accidentally zipped up Captain Winky. For the past several weeks, on multiple websites, there has literally been a countdown until the teen star of Heroes, Hayden Panitierre, turned 18. Are you frickin kidding me? A countdown? Was that the countdown to when you freaks could finally yank your doodle dandy without feeling guilty? I mean, this girl is 18 years old, for God’s sake. I’ve got underwear older than her. For some reason, men are drawn to her like Senator Larry Craig to an airport bathroom. Why is this? Is it because she wears that ridiculously short cheerleader skirt that constantly reminds you that she has an ass that’s harder than penitentiary steel? She’s 18! Is it because her bikini baseballs are popping out of Mammary Park like a Grady Sizemore homer? She’s 18! And now the big news is that men are going nuts over her Got Milk commercial like it was porn. It’s a frickin’ advertisement for milk! What is the big deal about a hot, 18 year old girl with a creamy white substance all over her mouth?

Oh, for God’s sake, let me see that ad. (rustling sound of paper)

Holy Shiite! That’s frickin’ hot! No wonder guys across the country are putting out wood like a lumber mill. Hell, I would sell my own momma to the black market for just a half hour with Hayden Panties in the air or whatever her name is.

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Not a chance

According to my good friend, Tyler Durden, a rumor that Jake Gyllenhall might come out of the closet is making waves around the blogosphere.

Of course, we all know there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that dude could be gay. Want proof? Here, Here, Here, Here and I think THIS ONE speaks to his manliness more than any other.

Yep, that’s pretty definitive. It’s more likely that I will fall down, hit my head on the toilet and invent time travel after a dream about something called the flux capacitor than Jake Gyllenhall being gay. Nobody calls Marty McFly a chicken and nobody calls Jake Gyllenhall gay. Now, where’s my DeLorean….

Master of TaeKwanDo-nut

This one has me more pissed off than a straight streaker who accidentally found himself in the middle of a gay pride rally. You all remember 90’s martial arts action star, Stevel Seagal, right? Movies like Above the Law, Hard to Kill and Under Siege made him more popular than Rosie O’Donnell at a cannibals convention. But for the past few years, Segal hasn’t been able to get any of his flicks into the theater. Why is that? Well, according to a recent quote from Seagal, every since 2002 when the FBI accused him of terrorizing journalists and associating with the mafia, he can only get roles in movies that go straight to DVD. And now Seagal wants the FBI to apologize. Are you frickin kidding me? So, lemme get this straight. Russell Crowe whipped a guy’s ass using his cell phone like a pair of numb chucks and he still gets good roles. Mel Gibson gets drunk, fights cops and makes anti-semitic remarks and still gets good roles. Hell, Robert Downey Jr went to jail so many times they actually named a frickin’ cell in his honor and he still gets good roles. But you, you want the FBI to apologize because your career went down like a $3 hooker? You see, Crowe, Gibson and Downey Jr. They have something in common. They could actually ACT. Your best attribute was that you used to be lean, mean fighting machine. So, is it the FBI’s fault that you quit snorting cocaine like a black and decker shop vac and instead of hitting the gym you hit the all you can eat buffet? You went from training with Master Lee to mastering Ship-ley’s. From using the Bear Claw attack to attacking the bear claw at the Quik-E-Mart. It’s hard to kick ass when you pack on about 80 lbs, ain’t it, Oh Master of Tae Kwon Do-nut? It’s tricky to get directors excited when your fiercest move is the Flying Gutbuster, huh, Sensei Pork Rind? Is it the FBI’s fault that audiences don’t wanna see a martial arts star whose ka-ra-te suit has to be custom tailored by a tent company and whose dojo is in the back of a Western Sizzlin’? So, Sensei spare rib, quit blaming the FBI for the fact that A) you’ve swelled up like an albatross eating a rolaid and B) that your movies are so retarded they should only be played on the shortbus.

According to several credible sources, NBC is giving real consideration to backing out on the agreement they have with Conan O’Brien to take over the Tonight Show in 2009. Why would they do that? Because Jay Leno wants to stick around a few more years. Are you frickin’ kidding me? Let me get this straight NBC, on one hand you have Conan O’Brien, who is not only frickin’ hilarious but actually appeals to audiences young enough to not be spiking their coffee with Metamucil. On the other you have Jay Leno who is as relevant to today’s youth as a hairbrush is to Vin Diesel. And then, just to add insult to injury, if NBC welches on the deal, they have to pay Conan a lump sum of 40 million dollars. Yeah, keeping Jay Leno instead of Conan makes about as much sense as Global warming being caused by Norweigian Moose Farts. Come on, Jay. You’re routine is more dried up than Whoopi Goldberg’s tumbleweed. You’re writing is about as sharp as an extra long butt sausage. You gotta go. You gotta pack it up like Michael Vick’s stink tube on his second night in prison. Hey, on the bright side, maybe you and Bob Barker could get together and trade prostate stories or oatmeal recipes. I would tell ya to keep your chin up but that’d be like asking the titanic to float in my bathtub. The bottom line, Leno: Jaywalk your ass to the house.

National FRUITball League Update !

First up, this one has me more disagreeable than Mike Vick’s anus on his first night in prison. Drug users, wife beaters, thugs and criminals….that’s right, it’s kick off time for the NFL. And could anything make more sense than having American Idol’s Ryan Secrest named as the host of the NFL’s halftime shows for the Superbowl. Are you frickin’ kidding me? Ryan Secrest? So, I guess Commissioner, Roger Goodell’s answer to all the thuggery messing up pro football is to just make it completely GAY? Who’s the lineup off that halftime… George Michael, Hannah Montana and the cast of frickin’ High School Musical? What’s next? The Dallas Cowboys announcing that their new conditioning coach is Richard Simmons? Maybe every team will have to designate the tight ends with sparkly pink jerseys and they’ll be sponsored by Summer’s Eve Douche or Tampax Tampons? How about covering the goalposts in rhinestones? Come on…..Ryan frickin’ Secrest. While I appreciate your efforts to clean up football, Commissioner Goodell, I really don’t have any desire to see football become FRUITball. The NFL is supposed to be about big, mean, bad-ass men smashing each other in the mouth to get to the endzone NOT to get into each other’s erogenous zones. The bottom line…If my choices are A) watching Ryan Secrest gay up the Superbowl or B) take a field goal kick to the groin from Colts kicker, Adam Vinatieri then I guess I’m gonna need the guys in the instant replay booth on standby so when he’s done I can locate my nuts. Just pray for me that they don’t hit the uprights.

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Houdini Lohan is at it again!

My good friends at Wizbang Pop say that, according to my other good friends at TMZ, that Lindsay Lohan has made good choices with (provided massive sexual favors for) her attorneys. The word on the streets…(and again, let me remind you that I do come from the mean streets of Bryant, Arkansas. DON’T YOU LAUGH! You think minding your business walking down the street when some punk in a 69 Chevelle Supersport purposely uses his tires to jettison water on you is child’s play? Hardly, my friends. That water could have some serious germs in it. Or I might catch a cold from being wet. Or, a pebble could hit me in the ear so hard that it cuts my lobe. That’s dangerous living.) …anyway, as you laugh at my pain, the word on the streets is that the District Attorney has opted not to pursue felony charges on Lindsay for DUI or for bringing a bag of frickin’ blow into the police station. Are you frickin’ kidding me? I could bring a plastic baggie with two crosstops so old they would have to get CSI to carbon date the shit and the next thing you know I’d be in a maximum security prison being turned into Jerry Don’s personal funhouse. All misdemeanors? Awww jiminy frickin’ tickle my nads Elmo. How the hell does that work? Well, I imagine it is very similar to my prison story. Only replace me with Lindsay Lohan and Jerry Don with her attorneys, the arresting officers, the judge, the bailiff, the dispatcher, the paddywagon driver…..hell, we don’t have time to cover the whole list. Just open the Hollywood, California phone book and all the people on the white pages. That should be pretty close to accurate. Anyway….sadly, stand by for the misdemeanor news that’s sure to set the tabloids on fire soon. Hell, me taking a dump is bigger news than that. She doesn’t even have to show up in court….I think I’m going to log off now and weep for a while.

Stand still, Amy....here it comes

Here’s a shocker. Amy Winehouse, who ironically has the hit single Rehab, overdosed this past week and had this to say about it: “It was just crazy - One of the most terrifying moments of my life. I don’t know how to explain what happened. I couldn’t recognize myself. I’m fine. I’ll be back at work on Monday. I’m fine, honest.” Are you frickin’ kidding me? You don’t know how to explain what happened? Oh, well, allow me to explain. You see, that happens when you turn your nostrils into a Eureka Vacuum Cleaner and go sucking up everything in the damn house. Heroin, cocaine, laundry detergent, ajax. Hell, your husband was so full of dope, if you could’ve figured out how, I’m sure you would have tried to shove him up your nose. But it’s kinda hard to figure the logistics on something like that when you’re brain is toasted like a frickin’ Quizno’s sub, huh Amy? And one of the drugs reputed to be in your system was ketamine….a horse tranquilizer. Well jiminy frickin’ Christmas, what’s left for you to do, Amy? Maybe you could snort some mustard gas or smoke a few radioactive isotopes. I mean, damn, you’re so bad off on drugs that Snoop Dogg and Pete Doherty want you to “Just Say No”. Hell, your own LIVER signed up on E-Harmony and the profile said “trying to escape abusive relationship”. And as for your comment that you couldn’t recognize yourself. Yeah, see that happens when your drug habit causes ya drop so much weight that you make Kate Moss look like a lard ass. And apparently the drugs have affected your smile, too because it looks like you spent the better part of the last month gnawing on lug nuts. There are so many gaps in those chiclets I could drive a 78 Buick Electra through there. You’re way beyond everyday dental work. What your teeth need involves an assload of C-4 and a wrecking ball. Amy, you don’t need rehab you need a damn head transplant. Dumbass.

Brad Garrett has a big mouth

This one has me more outraged than Al Sharpton when he got his invitation to the Annual Pimps and Hos Ball. Another Brad in the news. You might remember Brad Garrett as the 6 ft 8 brother on Everybody Loves Raymond. Freak of nature, actor and now add racist to the resume. Ole Brad was being photographed by a black paparazzi and said, “I didn’t know there were black people in Malibu. Go back to where you came from.” Are you frickin’ kidding me? Did you just wake up from a two week drunk and think you were back in 1960? Because that joke is about as funny as clearing up my nagging hemmheroids with a frickin’ orbital sander. Hey man, Don Imus just called and said you were way over the line. Maybe next you could crack a line about sending him to the back of the bus or hell, why not just pull out your hood and hangin’ rope and get your lynchin’ on right there at the corner of Hollywood and Vine. Hey, Brad, it’s frickin’ 2007 and that comment fits about as well as Hillary Clinton in an extra small thong. I hope Al Sharpton attacks you like Paris Hilton on a meat popsicle and puts you through sensitivity boot camp that involves you being strapped in a chair with a pair of headphones repeatedly playing Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing while being abusively teabagged by Shaquille O’Neal and simultaneously kicked in the nuts by Gary Coleman and finally being brought to the Montel Williams show where it would be revealed to you for the first time that you’re the illegitimate love child of Wilt Chamberlain. My friend, you are nothing but a big pantload of turd slurpee.