| 245414: It's the smoke |
[Jul. 11th, 2009|09:49 am] |
...The smoke.
Watch it. WATCH IT. DO IT. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. |
|
|
| 244372. HV2010: Girth Becomes Her |
[Jul. 9th, 2009|12:19 pm] |
So I had some interesting dreams.
I was Sascha Baron Cohen's sidekick in what I think was a Bruno follow-up. The best I can recall was that I was just a flamingly gay hanger-on, generally obnoxious and getting all up in celebrities' faces for the purpose of getting them to crack up or otherwise go "WTF?".
I ran into Paul McCartney, who was volunteering at the coat check at some fancy hotel, and also pouring glasses of iced tea for the guests. The weird thing was he recognized me and thought I was being held hostage. He eventually caught on and gave me a cup of his "in-character raspberry." Also, I ran into Cher, who had reverted to her poofy-haired late-80s self. Her face was bright green. She cowered as I walked up to her. I suggested that she do a new single called "If I Could Turn Back Lime."
Most notable was that I was trying to track down Meryl Streep to pitch an idea, which was for her to be the protagonist mom in a "Harper Valley PTA" remake (something cheezy like "Harper Valley PTA: HV2010"). I only had one line written. She would shout through the closed door at one memorable meeting:
"IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR I'M GONNA SHOVE MY DICK THROUGH IT AND FUCK EVERY LAST ONE-A YA!"
And she had a big one too. At least eight inches hard, thick, and uncut.
I don't remember much else, except I was living in a house with a deep pool in the back yard.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) eschewv: He Knows More About Meryl Streep's Wang By 9am Than Most People Do All Day. |
|
|
| 242493: On restoring, safeguarding the anal hygiene of one's friends and family |
[Jul. 6th, 2009|12:16 pm] |
Not since those damn Charmin™ bears have I been so excited about how Corporate America is helping us nurture our "hole selves."
Aside from the slogan at the very end (which is cash), the "method acting" taking place at 1:14-1:18 could stand to be honed. My recommendation is to instead hold the boxes steady but have a clown muscle his way in and knock them out of his hands. If you want to be extra creepy about it, have the clown tickle him instead. (Split-screen recommended.)
"Even with this douchebag clown mercilessly tickling me to the point of screaming and uncontrollably soaking every garment from my waist down with my own urine, as is happening to the left of my head, I never lose grip of the Aaah™. This ensures that no street performer, specialty children's entertainer or member of a nationally accredited circus*, short of a very hungry and persistent lion, can thwart my pursuit of ass happiness, as would have been outlined specifically by the Founding Fathers had they been able to grasp at the time the clean and fresh future that truly awaited their descendants."
* Aaah™ makes no guarantees as to the actions of non-accredited circus performers. A clown without bylaws is just a carny in face paint, and a carny in face paint is a bunghole's worst enemy. |
|
|
| 241661: The Chipmunk of Funky Ugly-Bumping |
[Jul. 5th, 2009|01:36 am] |
I'm just gonna leave this here, K?
You've likely seen it before, but just in case: DANCE FLOOR DALE. Possibly seizure-inducing and NSFW. The song is so-so (though catchy), the colors are freaking awesome and it brings its fair share of laughter and astonishment, at least in my case.
 |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
