Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Honestly, Just Fucking Knock It Off


You Forgot Your Brain finds me insomnia-addled and choking on the deep-fried chicken-bones of jealousy this morning, utterly envious of anyone who's been zapped with a full-frontal lobotomy or any kind massive, mind-altering head-trauma, because I’m almost certain that I wouldn’t have to review this rectal-spray of a blog were I clinically brain-damaged. Upon further perusal, however, perhaps the mentally-enfeebled is actually SVC’s intended audience, judging by the insane-asylum-gray background and grammatical snafus that bring to mind an orangutan bashing the keyboard with his elbows. Either way, I’m fucked coming and going, and this review is inescapable.

It’s not just that he’s annoying, it’s that he’s aggressively annoying; it’s like reading the musings of a four-year-old who got his head caught in a motorboat propeller, or the screaming idiocy of a howler-monkey with a paper-cut. There is absolutely no discernible difference at all between his first post and his last, and considering he’s been at this since 2005, I think it’s time to give in to nature and let irresistible contemptibility and overwhelming disinterest kill this blog dead.

I managed to cull some (sic) sentences from this atrocity before I ran outside in a hysterical rage looking for a small creature to strangle with my bare hands, so, please, judge for yourselves:

As Roger Ebert:

Some uncommon observations about [Ferris Bueller’s Day Off]: Sloan could have been hotter. When casting a lead hot girlfriend, she should be smokin hot, someone to drool over. Her voice is great, I have dreams about her voice, but we could have dialed up the looks on her a little bit. I mean, it is a hollywood movie, lets go people. A 7 on the scale of 1-10 doesn't cut it. Jennifer Grey, ferris' sister was hotter. Wow, hows that for a scary thought?

As a misogynist:

I love the term skank. I find that if one woman really hates another woman, that is the best term they use. Famous cases of skanks include Jennifer Love Hewitt, Tara Reid, Lynnsey Lohan, and Christine Aguilara. Men generally have no opinion about these girls, but mention those names around other females in an appreciative way and you will undoubtidly get a quick lip curl snarl. That being said, the local banks around here have quite a reputation for hiring skanks as bank tellers. You can tell they had a hard night of indirect prostitution so they are not exactly perky at 9AM. They're staring at the clock waiting for their next cancer stick break and a cell phone call to the 30 yr old guy they slobbered over to talk about a trip to planned parenthood on the lunch break.

As a jock:

For all the sports fans out there. Can we get a petition togethor for Fox to put rat poisen in Joe Buck's coffee? I would say the petition should be for his resignation, but he would just find work on some other network to annoy the crap out of everyone. I am so sick of his self-righteous crap. He never played sports and he needs to keep his opinions concerning player and manager behaviour to himself. I know his dad was an announcer too, but he didn't suck. Anyway, I hate games called by him and if I ever see him, he can expect to be tackled and made to chain smoke until we have to remove his larynx.

A couple of quick hits:

I stash things I might need everywhere, I am chronic prepare in case of emergency type guy and then forget that I put it there.
Why not just go see the real band or, if they are a broken up band; preserve the memories correctly through the tapes?
I have all the sick days I need, dress as I choose, can be as late as I want, and take off when I want. Not that I do because you feel responsible, but it's nice to know it is there.


Haphazard, inane, quasi-imbecilic claptrap thrown at the screen with indifference - it’s just wall-to-wall, irredeemable garbage that makes the dumpster behind a third-rate Thai-food restaurant look like a debutante’s ball; if horseshit was teeth, this guy would have the biggest smile in the universe.

Seriously, dude: fuck off, and don't come back.

78 comments:

  1. You said 'motorboat'. You old sailor, you.

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  2. 'God, take my ayes, but not the shirt'

    That just happened.

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  3. Ugh...hate it. Hate everything about it.

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  4. Reading that blog is like drinking alcohol without getting drunk: you lose braincells and you're left with a sick feeling in your stomach when it's over.

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  5. The problem with being a douche is that shit just squirts out of your head and then you are empty inside.

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  6. Tits: I love me some first-hand knowledge.

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  7. Ghost, let me be perfectly clear with you today, I'm sure you can follow along.

    Let's assume that was not an insult to me. Mostly, because I've had enough of them recently.

    Thanks,
    BB

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  8. Fuck, ok, I'll leave the count for the day at one. Merry Christmas.

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  9. Thanks. Look for your cookie in the mail.

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  10. "wall-to-wall, irredeemable garbage that makes the dumpster behind a third-rate Thai-food restaurant look like a debutante’s ball; if horseshit was teeth, this guy would have the biggest smile in the universe."

    I'm not joining the NJ Girly Fan Club just yet, but that sir, that is pure brilliance.

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  11. Miss M, as president of the NJ Girly Fan Club, it is my duty to inform you that we are still receiving applications for membership. Fill one out, you might get lucky.

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  12. Thanks for saying it for me, Ghost. Should I insert the (wink)?

    Nah.

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  13. Fine, I'll bring the popcorn.

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  14. The NJ Girly Fan Club is not impressed with your high-falutin' popcorn popping methods, Miss M.

    Tits: don't make this any harder for me than it already is.

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  15. Who could have imagined that the sticking point for membership in the NJ Girly Fan Club would be popcorn popping preference?

    Or alliteration, for that matter?

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  16. Well, I just don't want us selling out to ridiculous gimmickery, NJ. Integrity, ya know?

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  17. Yes, because we are wrought with integrity.

    I actually wear a shirt that says that.

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  18. Don't...make...implant...comment...

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  19. Yeah, just wait until you taste my ridiculous gimmickery. Oh, and you'll like my popcorn too.

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  20. Miss M: look, as long as your gimmickery is waxed, you'll score well on the casting couch.

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  21. Regardless of how ridiculously good your ridiculous gimmickery may or may not taste, know that the NJGFF will never alter our sacred popping techniques.

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  22. Here is the fun thing about implants.

    Message t-shirts become ridiculously amusing.

    My favorite shirt has two squirrels, sitting in lawn chairs, drinking beer.

    The squirrels land in exactly the right place to make the shirt entirely ridiculous.

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  23. Can we feed him some rat poisen?

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  24. Crowley: I think this fella would be more interested in Chef GoK's Tinted Rat Poysen Beskodee.

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  25. By the by, Miss Ives: gracias.

    Are you sure you don't want to join the NJGFC?

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  26. This blog made me throw up in my mouth, a little. It's like the blog incarnation of the guy who manages to cull me from my friends at the bar, cause I'm just slightly too drunk to notice it happening, and then treats to me to his own personal brand of wackiness (which he has greatly overvalued), and then, when the cold I'm fighting off causes me to lose my voice, he can't hide his happiness, because it means even more opportunity for him to lay down his wackiness.

    So, how was everyone else's weekend?

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  27. Hey, hat tip - my "fucked coming and going" line was based on one of your comments, I believe.

    So, Ms. Darwin: merci. I can feel your pride swelling from here... and why does that read like I'm being a lech?

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  28. Oh, its swelling, alright. But (as I discussed yesterday) I'm Canadian, and my healthcare pays for a cream to take care of that.

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  29. Most boring Goonies-related post ever.

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  30. Of course not yours, NJ, I admire your brashness and baldness with all of the praise within me, but that fucking guy who forgot his brain...

    Fully admits he is not a Goonie.

    That is like, suicide.

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  31. How is it that some people need to like, look for things to write about? Searching for ideas? Don't they just squirt out, like blood in a martial arts movie, until there's too much and you can't stop it?

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  32. Like right now, with the endless comments to myself.

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  33. As a fan of commenting to myself, I have to give kudos for your persistence, Rassles.

    Also, I mispelled "kudos" three times, each time splling "judos", which, if you think about it, it way fucking cooler than kudos.

    So, judos, Rassles.

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  34. (Should I point it out? Let it slide?)

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  35. Speaking of judos, I bet this guy's got a black belt in sucking.

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  36. Oh, SNAP. I am on FIRE today.

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  37. The persistent mispelling of splling, perhaps?

    Did I get all three? And, if so, a prize?

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  38. Also: the guy is a 100-watt bulb of suckage in a 40-watt outlet.

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  39. This guy is 1000Miawatts of suckage.

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  40. I was waiting for it, be nice or Rassles will break it up.

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  41. Can't promise anything, I'm making a conscious to not insult Tits.

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  42. I am never afraid to break shit up. I'm like fucking Batman.

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  43. Fine, I'd rather you crow at one than the other. I like Betsey, unstable women appeal to me--it's that shared comaraderie.

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  44. I'd say you are more like my drunk conscience. Arg.

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  45. Like Batman.

    Rassles, maybe it's the reflected hormones off my pregnant girlfriend, but I love you.

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  46. Note the restraint, the discipline that is Ghost.

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  47. NJ, if it weren't for your pregnant girlfriend who is no doubt a saint in the eyes of every diety ever, GoK included: I would love you too.

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  48. Well, I suppose in Rassles honor we can have a one day cease fire. Don't worry Key, I'm back on my meds today and feeling more emotionally connected. I'll forget a few more pills again and things will go back to normal.

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  49. Nah, go ahead and make fun of her. I think she can handle it.

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  50. And to think I was just about to talk about my 'feelings'.

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  51. I would have to agree with his comment on Mia Sara from Ferris Bueller.

    She had a sweet face but for someone driving a GT250 Spyder and pretending to be "The Sausage King of Chicago" she could have been hotter.

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  52. I don't know man, I'm pretty sure she's about as hot as Abe Frohman could get. I've met that guy, and he's ugly as fuck.

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  53. Well, I've met the guy that tends bar at Abe Frohman's Joint.

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  54. And he kind of looks like the missing link between birds and dinosaurs. All elbows and leathery skin.

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  55. Yes, but with the power that a being a "sausage king" brings you, could easily get a Lisa from Weird Science or Lana from Risky Business.

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  56. Man, she was crazy hot, 80s-style. Sure, 80s-style hotness doesn't translate as well as other eras, but back in the day? Hot.

    Take Samantha Fox. No, just take her - I wasn't making a point; just get her out of my house.

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  57. Hey, whoever takes fox, let me know if you have room for a few others. Oddly, my house has become a storage unit for things Scott Baio has fucked.

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  58. At the risk of revealing too much in regards to my dietary habits, I will say that that last comment made me spit carrot on my computer-screen.

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  59. I'll concede she had a very sweet face and you are talking to someone who re-watched again and again the scenes at the beginning of Legend when she is calling out for Jack (actually that might have been more about the Tangerine Dream score).

    However, from the neck down she was about as womanly as my ironing board.

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  60. GoK, you got any Joanies wandering around over at your place?

    I'm missing one.

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  61. Scott Baio has jacked one too many nights of sleep for me.

    Like the dream I had where he and Mr. Booms were a serial killer team going by the one collective name of "Mr. Marshall".

    Uncool.

    Like Julie from Growing Pains?

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  62. Payne, if you have a sexy ironing board, you better be prepared to share pics. Holding out, I knew it!

    Rass, let's just say Joanie really doesn't love Ghost.

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  63. GoK - Unfortunately it's flat and boring, rather like Mia's body.

    It does however have a stained cover over it.

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  64. Payne: Are you insinuating that your ironing board is to blame for all the libellous commentary mentioned on monday? Those are serious charges.

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  65. No, it couldn't be the ironing board. I would imagine that a talking, stained ironing board would swear like a Me.

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  66. I can assure you that the board has not moved since, oh, hang on, I did get it out on Saturday night.

    The cover was once a vibrant flower pattern. It now resembles the Turin Shroud.

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  67. I resent all this flat-chested talk. What about an ironing board with a really nice ass attached to it?

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  68. Ok, I don't know where everyone is getting these sexy ironing boards, but I'm pissed and a tad bit hurt that you have all been keeping this from me. I want a sexy ironing board.

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  69. now you know what you and DPH need to register for.

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  70. Oh, I'm a total NJ fan at this point. How could I not be after 'it's like reading the musings of a four-year-old who got his head caught in a motorboat propeller...'
    My only hope is that I get to stick the four-year-old's 'forgotten brain' into the vag of our horse when it's done being motorboated.
    So wrong that it's exactly right.
    Just like my entire fucking life.

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  71. I would rather watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 than read this blog.

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  72. Oh and GoK, if you want a sexy ironing board just put some clothes on me and burn the fuck out of me. You know you find scars sexy.

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Grow a pair.