Friday, April 25, 2008

Note to Rossi: time to grow the fuck up, babycakes

Hello, queen bitch here.

I'm going to do something today that I thought I'd never do. In fact, my first reaction was to send this blog submitter a big fuck you letter saying we don't do myspace. But fuck me...I'm going to review a myspace blog. Yeah, I know. Fucking myspace, home of internet perverts and teenage emo poseurs. I know people say that it is the font of all that is evil, and yet, I've made some pretty incredible finds on myspace. Of course, my teenager daughter has a myspace (is it possible to have a social life these days in middle school without one?) So, I have a myspace, to keep tabs on her. And I use myspace to research bands we want to see live. But seriously, how does a person even stoop to reviewing a myspace blog? Or submitting it to us, knowing that the odds are good that she is going to have a new shit hole reamed out?

The girl has balls, I'll give her that. Big hairy sweaty ones, I'd imagine.

So, what do you say about a "blog" on myspace where the writing is good enough that you are pissed when you get to the end of the entries? How in the hell do you rate something like that? This is when I realize, yet again, that reviewing blogs is not fucking rocket science. It's inexact. But, I like what I like. In the end, that's all I have.

So, here goes. Rossi...catch a clue. YOU ARE TOO FUCKING OLD TO HAVE A BLOG ON MYSPACE. You are now living in the adult world. It's time to grow up, sugar britches, and get a real blog. Srsly.

Go, get yourself a nice template. Get a blog on blogger or wordpress. You can do this, you know you can. You can even link back to your myspace as a teeny little security measure. Make sure you get a nice clean template with a light-colored background behind black or dark-colored text. Have a nice clean sidebar, and maybe throw in some navigation buttons. Don't put a bunch of ugly myspace widgets on it. Don't center your text. Choose a font face and size, and stick with it.

And then, once you get a blog, fucking write your ass off. Seriously, bitch, how in the hell do you end in November of 07, with only like 12 entries total? I should probably punch you in your recently absessed armpit. I was so pissed off when I got to the end and realized it was THE END. Jesus Christ. This girl can write, and she's funny as hell, and I LIKE her. I really, really like her. And, then it stops. Fuck. Reading your blog was like the highlight of my week, next to slutty phone sex with my boyfriend last night and hearing my son taunt my daughter about the time he caught her fondling her breasts. But I NEED MORE. So, you have to step up and write more. You just have to. You can't submit here with your hot little writing, and show us your coochie and your chops, and then not fucking put out. Girls like that are teases, and eventually end up on myspace with other people pummeling them, on CAMERA. And, no one wants that to happen.

So, in summary: Get a blog. Write more. That's all. Also, beyotch, you better put one of our banners up on your brand spanking new blog for all the readers you're going to get from this review. Send us a link when the new blog is up and running.

So, the score stands at:

Rossi writing: +2875
Rossi's ugly as fuck template: -6899029092854092350928523089235
Rossi still being located on myspace, at the advanced age of 20+, when she can write like a dream? Priceless.

for your writing.

But, for sending me to MYSPACE to read your fucking kick ass funny shit that award winning professional journalists only WISH they had the mad skillz to write?



Also, this is why myspace isn't totally evil:

korean baby singing hey jude

115 comments:

  1. Another reason to lay off the MySpace Kool-aid? It's blocked for me. I can't see why Bites was induced to use her favorite word 11 times. Sigh.

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  2. When you get home, you so have to watch that video. I was laying my lazy ass on the couch last night when my daughter shrieked and yelled for me to come into the office. She shrieks alot, so I ignored her, until it sounded like perhaps death and mayhem was occurring there. Then I went in, and it was a fucking video. I was so PEEVISH. But then we ended up watching it like 50 times and saying "remember to ret her into your heart" about a million times last night. Yes, that was my evening, and people wonder why I'm a bitch.

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  3. The funniest part is that I had to log into myspace to leave her a comment that she'd been reviewed. So, it kind of blew my anonymity, although I am almost as anonymous on myspace as I am here.

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  4. I like green and blue. I also like to eat garbage. That being said, she does write too well to not have an actual blog. Myspace is good for um, well, stuff.

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  5. So, Calamity, are you saying fuck is my favorite word? I had to go and re-read the post to figure out what my favorite word is. I actually thought it was serendipity.

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  6. List of things myspace is good for:

    1) stalking underage prepubescent girls.
    2) listening to crappy emo bands.
    3) porn.
    4) funny videos.
    5) porn.

    Okay, I think that's all I can think of.

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  7. I love that baby.
    So flipping cute.
    My girls hate him.

    "I can do better than that!" they say, and grab their plastic guitars and break down their classic medley of 'Hey Jude', 'Get Back', 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' and 'My Sweet Lord'.

    I agree that it's time to move past MySpace. I did. More recently than I'd like to admit, but I did it, at least.

    I read a couple of entries, they were really good - she's funny.

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  8. Besides serendipity. ;)

    It's my man's favorite word, too, as you know. It's also his favorite pastime, come to think of it.

    You forgot one: MySpace is good for stalking exes.

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  9. Dude...seriously. Myspace is also good for reminding me how fat my ex-boyfriend is. And how fucking creepy my ex-husband is. His blogs are ludicrously funny. I should link them.

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  10. God, who doesn't like fucking? Seriously, it's the best time-waster, EVER.

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  11. I know this bitch from outside the interweb and I've been telling her to get a real fucking blog for a year. I hate her for her skills, but then again, it makes me feel less inadequate when she doesn't try very hard.

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  12. I like this chick's writing a lot, but chances are I'll never read her again unless she takes your advice.
    First, because I hate myspace and anything on it by someone older than twelve.
    Second, she doesn't write often enough.
    Although, she did just write a post about you needing to read her older posts? I couldn't find older posts, so I have no idea what she's talking about.

    But then, I don't know anything about myspace. I think that shit.

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  13. *hate

    That should be, "I HATE that shit".

    It is Friday, right?

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  14. I can't stand her writing.

    Mitch Hedberg said that as a comedian, you can't be like pancakes. All exciting at first, but by the end, you're fuckin sick of 'em.

    And that's all she is - a glossy, charming, and altogether sickening punch line that doesn't ever end.

    Sell your computer and get creative with a razor.

    xoxoxo

    ~ Driz

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  15. "Can you farm?"

    "I planted a carrot once."

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  16. Please, Driz. We save all our razors for emo boys like you with black blogs and mopey Edgar Allen Poe quoting posts about love.

    Even funnier than this blog, though, is bagel

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  17. But, don't think that doesn't mean I love you. And, for that matter, my chemical romance.

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  18. I liked what I could read. A LOT.

    But that blue and green monstrosity almost blinded me. And I'm up there in years, so my eyesight isn't what it used to be.

    And then the font shrunk, kind of like Alice before she went down the rabbit hole.

    And everything disappeared. Well not really but it got so small that I couldn't read it.

    Please, someone... tell me that I didn't miss anything good.

    Please?

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  19. I can't tell you that. For me, it was humor gold.

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  20. Thanks for the review, and seriously, thank you for putting up with Myspace. I'm in the process of creating a blog right now. I expect it will take six days, and then on the seventh I will rest.

    And Driz, I too love Mitch Hedberg. But he also said, "I can't wait until this set is over, because I have a roll of Life Savers in my pocket, and pineapple is next."

    Don't think it's really relevant, but it's the first quote that popped into my head.

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  21. Driz, wow! You've come so far since your first comment here!

    That kind of snark turns me on.

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  22. Thx for repn the Ration Reality, Bagel pushed me into blogging.

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  23. That kind of snark makes me want to spank him, but he'd probably like it.

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  24. Come so far? Scandalous idea.

    I've got all sides. Artists don't dabble, we dive in - all colours, all shades. For every fancy, I have a fang.

    But like a good money shot, the longer you build up the venom, the more potent the spray.

    (Joking aside, I REALLY hate this blog. It's like devil wears prada meets trashy college skank.)

    ~ Driz

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  25. I think he'd like it too much.

    Seriously, although I don't agree with Driz (I think she can write), I do see where he's coming from.

    There isn't really any variety or depth. Maybe she plans it that way. That could be why she doesn't blog often. She only writes when she's in that humorous mood?

    If it's intentional, then she's definitely dead on.

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  26. Scandalous ideas are the best ones.

    By the way, I was agreeing with your first comment. I have no idea if she's a trashy prada wearing college skank.

    For prada, I'd pretend to be one.

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  27. Skank, maybe. Prada? I doubt it.

    But then, I was a sorori-whore in college, too. Perhaps that's why I like her so much. She twangs the strings of my inner skank.

    Ah, go listen to some Sunny Day Real Estate, Driz, then cut some long swathes down your inner thigh with your personal razor blade. You'll feel better. ;)

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  28. Ouch. Speaking of scandal, you should ask Bagel about her gallery of naked male bloggers. She's got some issues.

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  29. I'm only interested if she has pictures of you, Key. ;)

    Or Jobber.

    I'd pay cash money for those.

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  30. No comment. Wait, did you say money?

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  31. Yes, I think your nekkid bod is worth at least a dollar or something.

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  32. Thx. That's more than I got from Bagel. By about fifty cents.

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  33. Sweet. Do you think it's inflation or do you think you're getting hotter?

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  34. My girlfriend would tell you that number two is certainly not possible. So it's gotta be inflation.

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  35. I just keep on checking this site to fuel my ego, even though it seems that your comments sections always turn into fun, pokey banter towards the end and aren’t about me. But I like that.

    And I honestly appreciate all comments...even yours, Driz. It's almost refreshing to have someone hate my writing that much. I was able to inspire love and hate and retardation in a single day, and I’ve never been prouder of myself.

    I never really considered myself a serious blogger, which is exactly why I don't write with depth, or even, at times, with sincerity. Blogging was just something that I did for fun to entertain my friends, since I’m not much for sober pragmaticism. Can that be a word? My skanky ass doesn’t know.

    Ah, but Driz, ridicule is the panacea of my life, so go ahead, please...I never realized the impression my words could have on a stranger who obviously knows so little about me and everything I stand for. I really sparked some feeling there.

    What do I stand for? I’m not telling. You won’t like the way I say it anyway, so it doesn’t matter that I agree with your “emotional disobedience.”

    Still, you are very depressing. Go beat yourself with an orange, jack off to Bertolt Brecht, and take your Sturm and Drang somewhere other than my blog if you hate it that much.

    I really just needed a jab in there, just for fun. You can hate my writing all you want, but do not ever insinuate that I wear Prada. I should throw blood on you.

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  36. Rassles,

    You need to stick around and comment more. I really enjoyed those jibes. Heh.

    And Driz clearly likes pain, so I imagine he did, too. ;)

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  37. Key cannot get any hotter? That seems farfetched since you've pegged my mental hot-o-meter.

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  38. Is it morally wrong that I'm rooting for a Driz/Rassles throwdown?

    Don't mind me, I'm just sitting here with my popcorn.

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  39. What I'm saying is, that she knows the hotness, and appreciates the hotness on an astounding level. In other words, hell isn't this hot.

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  40. Well, at least you have a good self-image. That's always important.

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  41. Don't mind me. I'll just stay over here in this corner, expectant smile plastered on my face, waiting to be in on the joke because mother fucking hell I can't get on Myspace!

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  42. Apparently, raccoons are rather vain.

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  43. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  44. Raccoons are my second favorite animal, behind foxes. And right ahead of Lygers.

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  45. Like I've never been behind a fox before.

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  46. So, it wouldn't be doggy-style, what would you call it, then?

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  47. I never meant to insinuate that you wear prada. That was Angel's interpretation. I'm talking about the attitude, that self-righteous and ultimately impotent aura. Contradicting bits of wry humour cobbled together from your collective experience. Your chippy little wit is contrived and pre-planned; it feels artificial, fake, and trendy - like prada.

    This modern girl, sexy in her indifference, sickens me almost to a sort of violence. You ruin yourself with every passive aggressive misstep and lie, every self-deprecating joke that you don't believe, every over-the-top joke that you work so hard to sell.

    Today's prada is not a silly purse. It's a lifestyle, a requirement of self and selfishness, a sense of elitism. It's one of the few dysfunctional forms of narcissism.

    You don't appreciate my comments at all. You submitted to this site because you were the perfect candidate for it - snappy writer, just like you know they like, but an ugly blog, allowing them something to complain about.

    It takes a good liar to see through a good liar. You fucking fraud.

    ~ Driz

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  48. Yes! outright hostility! I've been waiting for this all week!

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  49. Nice. I like hostility.

    Lb: Cooning. It's a form of grudgefucking.

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  50. God, there is seriously nothing better than angry sex.

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  51. Wherever that nerve was, it got struck, man.

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  52. I came reading Driz's last comment. That was fucking beautiful.

    I don't even really agree, but goddamnitt that was hot.

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  53. I hate being patronized, I'm with Driz on this one. Yes, anger.

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  54. Or, from another perspective, maybe Rassles has a gift that she takes for granted, having always had it, of being able to expose her insecurities through humor.

    I can relate.

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  55. This modern girl, sexy in her indifference, sickens me almost to a sort of violence. You ruin yourself with every passive aggressive misstep and lie, every self-deprecating joke that you don't believe, every over-the-top joke that you work so hard to sell.

    Today's prada is not a silly purse. It's a lifestyle, a requirement of self and selfishness, a sense of elitism. It's one of the few dysfunctional forms of narcissism.


    Okay, so who was she, and when did she break your heart? Because there is no way you've taken the above from this blog.

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  56. You can tell us. This is a safe place.

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  57. Keeping the piece? Peace? So, yeah, who was she, sounds like someone I fucked over twice.

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  58. See? Key demonstrates the vicious cycle.

    Man fucks over girl, who goes on to fuck over some other guy, who gets bitter, who then attacks another girl, who then fucks over another guy.

    Did you follow that? Because it's totally what happens.

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  59. Of course my writing is pre-planned. I think something, and I plan on writing it. Like I said, I never considered myself a writer or artist.

    And I am extremely full of myself, because I think I’m funny.

    But you cannot honestly say that you don’t place yourself on that exact same elitist pedestal. Unlike you, I don’t litter my writing with insincere humility, I don’t try to trick myself into believing that I have something revolutionary to say, and I don’t believe I offer a unique philosophical perspective.

    You’re a blogger, for fucks sake. We all believe we are important, that people should read our shit. The essence of blogging is self-righteous and narcissistic. But the difference between you and I is that I know that I am like the masses, don’t delude myself into believing that I must parade my brilliant individuality via blog and discourse, and I don’t believe that my social commentary is original.

    Well, that's a lie. Technically, I just did that.

    I point out stupid shit. I don’t have a very philosophical bent.

    You’re obviously not a stupid person, but you dismiss me for one. I think that you underestimate the intelligence of the world. We are not all as mindless as you believe.

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  60. I most absolutely took that from her blog. Which part did you skip, when/if you read through it?

    The airheaded bitch with nothing to talk about but paperclips and dunkin donuts?

    The intentionally distancing skank who ostracizes everyone she talks to in fruitless endeavours to remain as esoteric and unrelateable as possible?

    The useless, alcoholic cunt proud to pieces to be a useless, alcoholic cunt?

    The mechanistic, formulaic jokes of a rapidly aging and equally rapidly regressing whore?

    If Jesus had but one person he could choose not to love, she'd be her.

    I am shocked and in awe. Did you read the wrong blog, or did I? Or, better still, am I trolling to give us all something to do on a friday afternoon?

    Either way. *shrug*

    ~ Driz

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  61. I will say up front that I suspect that it is Driz's preconceived notions about sorority girls that are probably to blame here. I was one, also. The girls I hung out with in college, we might have been stupid drunks at times, but we weren't elitist, and we were never cruel.

    And, to assume that simply because I had a good college, and enjoyed my friends, and occasionally cut up and acted like a silly girl...it didn't stop me from trying to change the world.

    It did help keep me from taking me quite so seriously and turning into an intellectually pretensious wanker. So, i do think that's a good thing.

    But, I do think that pre-judging people based upon such minor details is pretty elitist, on it's own.

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  62. Rassles: You got a mouse in your pocket? What's this 'we' shit? I think the masses are mindless for sure. Going to mass is mindless as well. I like green tea.

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  63. You don't think you're like the masses at all. You think you walk among 'em, but are a peg or three higher than the crowd.

    Again, lies upon lies upon lies.

    The obsessive individuality, the distancing, the bullshit. The snarky petulance when faced with the cold, hard truth.

    The difference between you and I has nothing to do with the 'masses'. The difference is that you belong in the kitchen; seen and not read.

    Get crackin. Salami and cheese on brown.

    ~ Driz

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  64. Wow. Every blog has to be about something serious? Well, fuck me standing up.

    I had no idea.

    Damn me to hell for reading shit like Acts of Gord (video clerk diary) and Diaries of a Porn Clerk.

    Clearly, I'm an empty-headed rapidly aging whore, as well.

    But then, there are worse things to be. ;)

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  65. Oh, shit, I'm starving. Could you grab me an orange?

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  66. Aw, man! Did you see that? Driz is like David Copperfield up in here. It's all an illuuuuuuuusion.

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  67. You don't think you're like the masses at all. You think you walk among 'em, but are a peg or three higher than the crowd.

    Wow.

    And here I thought she was just a young, barely out of college, new to the world of work, somewhat wet behind the kid with a gift of gab looking for her place to fit in the world.

    It's amazing how you can pull such depths of meaning out of a post about a paperclip, Driz.

    I should probably do more navel-gazing and get more serious about changing the world through blogging.

    Damn.

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  68. Rather...somewhat wet behind the EARS...I don't know about her wet behind.

    Seriously. I swear.

    I got no coochie shots for this glowing review. I promise.

    A girl has to have her ethics.

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  69. You don't think you're like the masses at all. You think you walk among 'em, but are a peg or three higher than the crowd.

    ...

    The obsessive individuality, the distancing, the bullshit. The snarky petulance when faced with the cold, hard truth.


    Mom? Is that you?

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  70. Seriously, an orange. Stat.

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  71. Who the hell are you talking to, demanding raccoon? Get your own damn orange. And, stop pawing my popcorn.

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  72. I'm talking to you if you can get me an orange. Also, I wasn't pawing at your popcorn.

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  73. "The airheaded bitch with nothing to talk about but paperclips and dunkin donuts?

    The intentionally distancing skank who ostracizes everyone she talks to in fruitless endeavours to remain as esoteric and unrelateable as possible?

    The useless, alcoholic cunt proud to pieces to be a useless, alcoholic cunt?

    The mechanistic, formulaic jokes of a rapidly aging and equally rapidly regressing whore?

    If Jesus had but one person he could choose not to love, she'd be her."

    Yes, you are correct. I do, honestly, agree with those statements.

    Driz gets me.

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  74. What is actually involved with whore regression? Do you mean redressing? Like, when they put their clothes back on?

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  75. Adult regression is, in a weird way, a progression.

    It's just cock-sucking instead of thumb-sucking.

    ~ Driz

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  76. I had no idea to be a lover of prada is so offensive! And yes, that was MY interpretation. Had I known it would contribute to this mess... I'd have said it sooner!

    Don't hate me because I like a gorgeous handbag. It cetainly doesn't make me any less cool. I'm a former sorority girl, too. (Alpha Delta Pi)

    Never could hold my liquor, though. This chick never drank anyone under the table. Two shots of tequila and I was on top of it.

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  77. And Driz, I really would love to read more of your pompous, self-centered drivel on your website, but all I can do is sit around and wonder how long it's been since you've been laid.

    But I guarantee you, it's been longer for me.

    If I hadn't posted that story about the sorority, and something about working for a non-profit organization that raised money for inner-city education, would you loathe me as much?

    I really am glad donations are coming in slow today, because I am getting nothing done.

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  78. God, this is going to make me sound so shallow, but what with all the world saving I do between 9 and 5, I want a little fluff in my blogs of choice. Sue me for the empty-headed shallow bitch I am.

    I hate designer purses, though. What an awesome waste of money. Oh, and I cut and color my own hair. God, I'm such an empty-headed superficial snob. ;)

    p.s. DZ ownz ADPi.

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  79. Jesus hates me, too, but god he's such a drama queen with the hand piercings and all. Get over yourself, already. Nobody needs that many piercings.

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  80. I got laid on Friday (last). Multiple times. I bet Calamity and Key have us all beat. Maybe Angel, too.

    No oranges here. More like cantaloupes, dude. Small ones.

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  81. I think he should have taken nails to the neck. I like my Jesus to be hardcore. So, I guess an orange is totally out of the question at this point?

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  82. Would I still find you deplorable? Honest?

    I think you're wholly tolerable, in the same way that irritating, overly thick, impossible to open blister packs are tolerable when they contain a really tremendous item inside.

    After the struggle, the blister pack still goes straight to the trash (where it arguably belongs), but at least I don't stick it to my fridge and viciously berate it everyday.

    But then, you've got an ipod stashed in that prada personality bag too, so... maybe not.

    ~ Driz

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  83. I've decided I don't want to whore regress. I'm trying to progress to full-blown whorage.

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  84. I wonder what tremendous thing Rassle is hiding inside. Rassle, do you have a creamy chocolate middle? If we muddle through you, do we get a decoder ring?

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  85. Key, probably. Sorry to disappoint.

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  86. I bet she has a creamy center.

    God, that was so obvious, but I couldn't resist.

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  87. Rassle,

    Did someone leave a signet ring stuck up inside you during school, what with all those fratties you were fucking, you post-regressive whore?

    Cuz those things can be valuable, I've heard.


    (no judgements, I fucked them, too).

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  88. I want the decoder ring, then. Especially if it's shiny. Is it shiny? Does anyone know if it's shiny? Canteloupes? All those damn seeds.

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  89. Wait a minute, since I'm the one willing to blow money on designer bags obviously to feel important, wouldn't that me the superficial one?

    And I'm fine with that. But I'll never own up to being empty headed. I would love to be able to turn my mind off sometimes.

    Don't we all have vices? Drug of choice, strong drink, pretty purses, addiction to ebay, myspace?

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  90. My only addictions are to fast men and sex toys.

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  91. Yeah. Top that, bitches, with your shallow paperclip/purse obsessions.

    Ownt.

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  92. Dammit, I don't have an Ipod, either. But thanks for making me feel inferior. You didn't read that blog?

    Key, if you want to beat yourself so badly, here's a fraction of an orange.

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  93. Oh my god now he's bashing ipods! Driz, baby, I'd fuck my ipod if it had a better shape and was liquid proof. I love it that much.

    But I think somewhere in that was a Rossi compliment. For real. At least in my twisted mind.

    "I think you're wholly tolerable, in the same way that irritating, overly thick, impossible to open blister packs are tolerable when they contain a really tremendous item inside."

    See, if I were you, Rassles, I would immediately turn that around to, "Oh wow! He thinks I'm tremendous inside!"

    By the way, I got laid last night. And you all have gotten me so frustrated now I will surely get it again tonight, whether he likes it or not.

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  94. Oh, and what am I hiding? I have serious insecurites, people.

    I need to get these up faster. I'm not used to this.

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  95. Just to catch up, I bent over and took it like a girl yesterday and I'm addicted to Wikipedia and chocolate. Not very fierce, am I? Ah, well. In my younger days I was addicted to the chronic. I was younger yesterday.

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  96. Why do you think I try to cover up inadequacies with humor?

    Like I said, Driz gets that.

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  97. Look, if I want to hurt myself, I'll get back on myspace and find you. I'm just hungry for citrus.

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  98. Key: I have no oranges, but I do have this, for you.

    Jesus is Hardcore

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  99. Ah, in my old days I was addicted to...nope, still am a drunk.

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  100. Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but Calamity and I are off to feed our sex toy addictions.

    ciao bellas.

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  101. And wine. Bitches be needin' some wine.

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  102. And dammit, there is nothing wrong with a drunk.

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  103. Remember to share and take pictures. Thx for the Hardcore Jesus. He's pretty hardcore, even for a Jesus.

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  104. You don't cover up inadequacies, because you don't feel like you've got any to cover up.

    You're gonna walk away from this mess with what you feel is a win, no matter what it takes. If anyone is getting riled up over this, it's love bites, not you, eh rassles?

    I can't imagine you getting honestly riled up about anything.

    ~ Driz

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  105. Quite true. I've worked hard to turn myself into an emotion-bouncing trampoline.

    Right now I just want to play the Last Word game.

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Grow a pair.