Jesus wears stilletos?

Here’s another magazine interview that has me more chafed than Hillary Clinton ridin’ a 10 speed bike in polyester shorts. This past week, Britain’s Q Magazine published pop singer Avril Lavigne’s Ten Commandments and after reading them I realized that Avril Lavigne would be the perfect spokesperson for Summer’s Eve because she is a complete douche bag! I can’t cover them all so I just picked my favorite one. Avril likes to Practice Good Karma and says, “I am a very giving person. When the hurricane thing happened I went to my closet, filled six boxes of stuff and said to my assistant, "take it to Katrina!" I also like to give stuff to people who are my "workers", especially if they don't make much money." Are you frickin’ kidding me? I can’t believe the goodness coming out of you, Avril. Sometimes, when I’m praying I get you confused with Jesus. So, let me get this straight. After Katrina, thousands of volunteers walked across the dookie-filled pond that New Orleans became to save lives and you’re gonna brag that you walked across your apartment to get six boxes worth of crap out of your damn closet? Yeah, I’m sure if New Orleans rescuer workers could have asked for anything it would have been spiked belts, stiletto boots and an assload of jeans full of holes. I’m sure that made identifying hurricane survivors much easier. Just look for the ones dressed like a frickin’ skankbucket. And to top it off, you couldn’t even drop your donation off at the damn post office yourself. You told your assistant to mail it for you. I bet that was just moments after you took the mud off her eyes and healed her of blindness, right? As far as giving stuff to people who are your “workers” that don’t make much money. How about just giving them a raise, assclown? If there is a God, and I believe there is…and that God believes in Karma and I believe he does, then I prophesy that in the not too distant future that a freak hurricane will spring from your toilet bowl and you’ll get sucked down where you belong with all the other turds.

We hear ya Brad......

In his interview with V Magazine - Brad Pitt discussed his break up with Jennifer Anniston and had this to say: “Jen and I still maintain a deep friendship and have a lot of life together that isn't erased in any way.” When pressed about the way it ended, Brad whined, “I don't know how better to have handled it.”. Are you frickin’ kidding me? Yeah, I know the way I like to cultivate a deep friendship is to not only humiliate the person in the worldwide media but also to rub their nose it in it like a newspaper covered in hot, steamin’ labrador logs. The only thing “deep” about that situation, Brad, is how far you got the frickin’ shank into Jen’s back. As far as how you could have better handled it….ohhhh….I dunno….maybe you could have waited until you actually broke up with Jen before you started working Angelina over like the frickin’ KFC buffet. That might have been a good place to start. Or, maybe when you left Jen on Monday you could have waited until at least Thursday or Friday before you and Angie adopted enough kids to start a Nike factory. I think if you would just be honest, you know, come clean, then people would have a lot more respect for you. So the next time you are asked about Jennifer please use this answer I personally crafted for you: “You know, I am really sorry about all that and Jen is really nice but I got to see Angelina’s boobies! Don’t you frickin’ get it, man? And I got to put my face on ‘em and everything. Angelina’s rack is like a big pipe full of man crack and I ain’t ever goin’ to rehab.” Well, something like that oughtta get it.

Survivor: Petri Dish

This one has me more fired up than Ellen Degeneres’ vibrator. At the MTV music video awards, Kid Rock walked up and sucker punched Tommy Lee. Why? Allegedly because Rock was angered by the fact that Pamela Anderson sat in Tommy’s lap. Are you frickin’ kidding me? The only way this could have been better is if Jerry Springer had jumped out from behind a ficus tree. Both of them are Pam’s ex husbands so the fact that they’re fighting each other makes about as much sense as the time I got hammered and woke up naked in between a goat and a tub of country crock margarine. What could they possibly be fighting over? Who got gonorrhea first? Or maybe they both looked down at the same time and saw a Valtrex on the floor and started scrapping over that. If you see the three of them together you don’t need to call security, you need to call The Center for Disease Control. At this very moment, every one of their genitals is hosting its own episode of Survivor: Petri Dish and let me assure you that there are lots of contestants. My bets on Chlamydia to win but don’t count out the crabs. They are a crafty bunch. Seriously, the only way you could make this equation any more disgusting is if you added a bathroom stall and an Idaho Senator.

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Whoopi is Really, Really, Really Frickin' Dumb

This one has me more stirred up than a porn star’s uterus. Whoopi Goldberg made her debut on The View and immediately made a comment that was flakier than a box of Post Toasties. Goldberg said that “from where Michael Vick comes from” in the deep South, dogfighting isn’t that unusual. It’s like cockfighting in Puerto Rico,” Are you frickin’ kidding me? In the South dogfighting isn’t that unusual? Yeah, I just got my invitation in the mail yesterday to the Arkansas Human Society’s Annual Rip Rover’s Throat Out Event. Come on… that makes as much sense as my brother getting a snake bite on his schlong and asking me to suck out the poison. Sorry bro, but we all have to die sometime. First off, Whoopi Assberg, you are apparently as knowledgeable in geography as you are hair products because Vick is from Newport News, Virgina, which is about 2 hours from Washington DC. Newport News is to the deep south as Gwen Stephani is to Hooters. Second, I’ve lived in the real south almost my entire life and have never even heard about a dog fighting match. Unless you count Hillary Clinton Versus Janet Huckabee and that would be a hell of a bitch fight. When is the last time you actually came south, Whoopi Goldturd? Here are a few things you need to know: Dogfighting IS unusual. People here are more likely to shoot you for stealing their dog than kidnapping their spouse. Also, we have running water which, from the looks of that whisker biscuit on top of your head, you may want to check into. We also have integrated schools, contraceptives, shoes and thankfully… we have DVRs so we can fast forward past dumbass comments like yours that basically just squat down and drop a giant load of ass raisins all over the viewer’s intelligence. And what the hell does any of this have to do with cockfighting in Puerto Rico? I don’t have a joke there. I just think the phrase cockfighting is really funny. Somehow makes me think of a duel between gay men. The bottom line: You’re about as sharp as a pair of kindergarten scissors.

MDA - Massively Dysfunctional Asswipe

This weekend, I turned on the TV just in time to see a drunk Jerry Lewis hosting the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon when he started mumbling incoherently and then called someone an “illiterate faggot”. He later apologized and said that he “holds no prejudice in that regard” and he “forgets that people don’t know him that well.” Are you frickin kidding me? Don’t know you that well, Jerry? Hell, the most shocking thing about this is we didn’t even know you were still alive! And then the way you remind everyone you’re not somewhere basting in formaldehyde is to make an anti-gay slur on live TV? Way to go, Jerry. Maybe next year you can make up a few funnies about black people or throw in a joke that starts with, “So a Jew, a Mexican and a Polock walk into a bar.”
You say that this distraction from the true purpose of the telethon “pains you deeply”? Let me tell you what I’d like to see “pain you deeply”… about 3 hours of sensitivity training that involve Senator Larry Craig , a low lit bathroom stall, a gallon of KY and a Celine Dion CD. And when you wake up in the morning and see that vase of a dozen panty-roses with a card that reads,

“I guess now you can call ME the nutty professor.”, Love, Larry…p.s. I left your dentures on the back of the commode.”

Then, Jerry, then you’ll truly be able to say you were “deeply pained”.

Crikey This!

This one has me more flipped out than Charlie Sheen’s wang. One year after Steve Irwin aka The Crocodile Hunter’s shocking death in the ocean, demands are being made for his secret autopsy report to be made public. Reports claim he may have been on prescription painkillers that could have clouded his judgment when he was killed by a stingray's barb last September. Drugs? Steve Irwin? Are you frickin’ kidding me? I mean he was purposely trying to piss off 12 foot crocodiles. What do you think? OF COURSE the dude was on drugs. Have you ever watched his show? Any normal human being who was being struck at by a giant rattlesnake would want to escape worse than Britney Spears’ kids. But not Irwin. Here’s a guy who put himself in front of cobras, he put himself in the water with sharks and he put his frickin’ head in the mouths of alligators. Damn, the only thing more dangerous he could have put himself in was Paris Hilton. Crikey! Look at those blisters. That there, mate, is one scary case of herpes. I’d rather wrap my wanker in bacon and dangle it in a crawfish hole than go spelunking in that cave of doom. And, frankly, getting into the ocean with a bunch of giant sting rays is crazier than using a piranha to shave the hair around my bunghole. So, let me save you some time. Was the Crocodile Hunter on painkillers? You’re damn right. Steve Irwin was probably more loaded up than a Wendy’s baked potato when he got in that water and he had every right to be. Crazy people need their medicine.

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Liar, Liar Pants On Fire!

This one’s got me more rattled than Miss South Carolina in a Where’s Waldo tournament. After the details of his arrest come out, Idaho Senator Larry Craig not only says he shouldn’t have pled guilty but he also denies that he’s gay. Are you frickin’ kidding me? Let’s break down the name of your state. I-Da-Ho. You see, that’s an admission of guilt right there. And according to the report, the officer was in the bathroom minding his own business when you came in and started looking through the crack of the stall. Now, I think I can speak for about 90+ percent of all men when I say, if I see you eyeballin’ me through a crack in the door while I’m tryin’ to squeeze off a stink pickle, as soon as my, umm, paperwork is done, you’re gonna catch an ass whoopin’. BUT that’s not even the best part…you go onto to say that the reason you touched his foot with yours is because you use a wide stance. YOU GOTTA BE FRICKIN’ KIDDING ME! Wide stance? Well, I guess so cause you’d damn near have to be doing the splits to make that happen. Listen Senator, I’ve dropped my dirty payload in somewhere around 5,000 different stalls and if anyone needed a wide stance it would be me because my ass is so big it has its own zip code. Yet, somehow, someway, I’ve never managed to put my foot on another man while he was in the middle of breakin’ off a monkey tail. Senator, I couldn’t care less about your sexual preferences but in case you’re wondering or in denial, you’re gay. As a matter of fact, if you rub shoes with a man in the stall next to you then you’re fruitier than Elton John’s banana tree. But look on the bright side, Senator…at least from now on you’ll be able to wear your Rainbow Bright t-shirt on the senate floor.

Owen Wilson's a Bitch - Yeah, I Said It

You know what, call me an insensitive bastard if you will but when the news came out that Owen Wilson tried to commit suicide, I only had one thing to say: Are you frickin’ kidding me? I mean, come on, Owen. What are you sad about? Maybe it’s because your bedroom has accommodated so many hot chicks that it’s now a feature destination on travelocity? Maybe you’re sad that, at ten million dollars a movie, you can only afford wipe your ass with fifty dollar bills and not hundreds. And everybody knows they’re the softest! Come on, fess up, Owen? Did your momma not pack extra milk money in your lunch box when you were a little boy? Did you finally look in the mirror and realize that your nose looked like it had been broken more times than the American-Indian peace treaty? And now to top it off, rumors of rampant drug use have surfaced. And normally I might take that with a grain of salt but when frickin’ Courtney Love comes out and says she warned you about the drugs, you know you gotta problem. Hell, that’s like Rosie O’Donnell warning you about the dangers of the Baconator. Dude, we’re all pulling for you but you need to straighten up, quit being such a wussy and leave the drugs behind like Eddie Murphy’s baby.