Sunday, October 30, 2011

You would not believe how many girls on LJ have usernames like HAYDENSMOMMY2003 and KADENSMOMMA09 and JADENSMOMMIE and well, I think you get the idea. First of all, I'm sure they're all giant MILFS. Have kids? check. Have breasts? check. Congratulations, you are now a fully qualified MILF. Go forth and... milficate.

Second, the supercoolspecial names like KADEN! and MADISON! are no longer super cool and special when EVERYONE HAS THEM. "I want to be original, just like everyone else! Ooh Kaden, only five of my friends used that name already, they're so cool and different, I wanna be cool and different too!" This is also how hipsters happen. Like hipsters, the only way to tell them apart is by punching one of them in the face. Try sporting that shiner "ironically," sunshine.

There's also a fair amount of lj fuckery/mean Christian overlap. Here are some charming userpic messages to brighten your day: "Bitch you're on my shit list," "You are classy with a capital cunt," "One classy bitch," "Sorry I'm prettier than you," "Honey you're a dirty slag," and last but not least, "Christ follower." Yes, they all belong to the same person. I hope she never gets confused and ends up with "Jesus is a dirty slag" or something. Or maybe Christ is her sexy neighbor she follows around with high-powered binoculars? *grasps at anything to try to make the world make sense* Apparently being a Christian is like being a MILF. You just have to say you are one, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

In case this person wasn't confounding enough, she likes... Doctor Who? And Big Bang Theory, and Harry Potter? But but... those are MY things! "Classy bitches" and MILFS and woo girls can't have those things, they have Britney Spears and Jersey Shore and America's Next Top Slag Housewife Dancing with the Stars! Get your mean girl face outta my happy place. :/

This stuff is very prevalent on LJ, for some reason. The "I'm a classy bitch and you are something demeaning that makes you inferior" school of thought. From these girls' journals you'd think they've had really rough lives, hoes and slags and cunts humping their man's leg at every turn, what's a poor classy bitch to do? It's tough out there on the mean streets of *checks*... San Diego. I don't know what happened to turn today's young women so hard, but I'd like very much to go back in time and shoot it into space.

The worst part is I feel like I'm the only one who gives a shit or even notices. Man, I feel old.

BUT I'M NOT OLD. I'M RIGHT, DAMMIT.

Friday, October 28, 2011

DAY 2937 OF OCCUPY: MY BEDROOM. DEMANDS STILL NOT MET.

Oh, fuckcakes. I had a terrible night. And a mostly terrible day, except for the candy-getting part. Oh and the burrito-getting part, that was pretty good too. But the parts that didn't involve putting stuff in my mouth? TERRIBLE.

When I'm sad I tend to roam the internet like a lonely hitchhiker, seeking out things from the past. The last thing I expected was the rare LLOL (LITERAL LAUGH OUT LOUD), but I sure needed it tonight. I looked up this girl I went to elementary school with, found her facebook and some other stuff, and this girl was like SUPER SMART so I wasn't surprised she had some long initimidating-sounding technical title at WeUnderstandYourComputerAndYouDon'tCo,Inc. And a Masters degree. And possibly a pony. So then I click on the myspace of a girl with her name, scroll down to see if it's her, and there was her occupation: MEAT PROCESSOR. So yeah... probably a different person. And OMG, I think I peed a little. Not that there's anything wrong with processing meat! But it sounds exactly like what I would make up to be the opposite of Technical Smartypants, so that made my night. Cause real life should sound like me more often.

My title is now officially MEAT PROCESSOR, if anyone asks.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011



This photo is totally gonna rock my journal now. It pretty much sums up everything I want to say about life that can be said with a bedazzler, ya know? The four exclamation marks really make it for me. Cause three just wouldn't have been enough! What would Jesus do? Punctuate!!!!

So I watched this episode again to confirm that the Glitz!Jesus lady and the lady who dressed her 4 year old up like a prostitute were one and the same, and by golly I was not disappointed. I wonder what happened to her to make the flow of blood completely stop reaching her brain. Clearly she is a miracle of science.

I forgot what a deep fried mess this one was. Nothin' but high-pitched twangs, screaming children and "unfortunate" mishaps. And it's the south, so it's all very dramatic! "Who wears a big bad wolf costume to a pageant to scare all the other little kids?" One mom cries in her best outraged twang. Um, a FUCKING GENIUS? Geez, no wonder the lil hooker* won. Everyone else was really terrible. I mean, they did NOT bring their A-game despite being thoroughly briefed on the necessity of bringing one's A-game. You'd almost think they were like, toddlers or something. And I don't know if these moms were a special brand of awful or if the INCESSANT TWANGING JUST STRETCHED OUT EVERY AGONIZING SYLLABLE LIKE A MEDIEVAL TORTURE DEVICE, but holy FUCK they grated on me.

*Lil Hooker doll, coming to the back alley of a store near you! Oh wait, they're already called Bratz.

Stupid name of the pageant: Brystol (also the girl scared by the big bad wolf. Probably unrelated). "We named her after the racetrack, but with a y cause you know, we're not rednecks or anything. These are her twin sisters, Daytonna and Tallydega. I swear we're really interesting, and I read a book once!" I dare you to figure out if I'm making that up or not. YOU CAN'T, CAN YOU? That's the beauty of T&T, folks. It's like living in a world completely populated by fairies and mermaids and elves; if a unicorn walked in would anyone really notice?

I had more to write tonight but I'm tired, so I'll be back tomorrow! It appears I've finally broken out of my recent blog funk. I might even be ready to tackle that chitlin pageant; I just need some earplugs to keep the twanging down to a dull roar.

The earplugs... they do nothing. :/
I was randomly searching people from my old hometown on facebook and came across the little boy of the woman who used to babysit me, who had grown into a very gay man. Now that's not exactly earth-shaking (well in El Segundo it might be actually), but this guy isn't just gay he is VERY VERY gay, he is King Gaynor of Gaystonia. His interests listed are "Gay Marriage, Gay Music Videos, Gay Movies, Gay Podcasts..." *deep breath* ... Gaytime: Television for Gay Men, Gay Hiking, Gay Decathlon, Gay Hunting, Fishing and Archery Association, Gay Australian Rules Football, Gay Book Club, Gay Astronomy, Gay Birdwatching, Gay Breakfast, Gay Cream of Mushroom Soup, Gay Playing the Guitar, and Gay Gay Gay Gay Gay.*

So yeah, he's gay a little. And considering I last saw him as a tow-headed 6-year old being raised by two straight, conservative El Segundo parents, I had a fleeting sense of... disreality. (Yeah, that's a word. MAKE IT NOT BE ONE.) This on top of the sense of disreality you always feel upon seeing someone you knew as a little kid as an adult. "You mean... they grew UP? What?!" After my brain processed the unexpected information, it felt happy. I mean, growing up gay in El Segundo must have sucked. I wonder how long it took him to come out, like if he waited til after he moved on to the gayer pastures of Santa Monica, or what. But while his interest list might be a bit excessively gay, he looks comfortable with himself, like an IT GETS BETTER ad. I'm happy for him. Hell, I'm GAY for him. Wheee!

*Gay Hobbies I considered and rejected upon rereading: Gay Fly-Fishing, Gay Deep Sea Diving, Gay Sandwiches, and Gay Sleeping with Other Men. Actually wait, I like that one. It's like the "Bob Johnson!" of fake gay hobbies. I had to keep Gay Cream of Mushroom Soup though. Now whenever someone searches the internets for "gay cream" - AND SOMEONE WILL - they'll be directed to my blog. And this makes me win. or something.

Love,
Punch Rockgroin (unfunnest gay hobby ever!)
I've been feeling kind of flibberty lately. I can't seem to focus on anything. Not even T&T, waah. So I bring you randomness, mostly lj and political fuckery.

A while back I made the post about Ye Olde Englishe Shoppeing a name up, as in adding random superfluous letters, wherein I christened myself Maelissah or some such silliness. At the time it was funny because it was hyperbolic, but now it's tragic because it's true. Ladies and gentleman, your lj mom name fuckery of the day... IZABELLAH!

Don't make me take the letter Z away from you people, cause I'll do it. Then I'll come for your H in all its proud, silent majesty. Look at it standing there, defying you to tell it it's doing nothing. I understand, letter H. You just wanna contribute something to the cause, you don't wanna die down there in no man's land. It's all you can do to stand up straight. Cheer up emo H, I'm taking you to a better place, at the front of a word, where you'll actually get to make a sound! Like HISS! Or HI-KEEBA! There, isn't that better already? *pats*

Me: Saving the alphabet from name fuckery, one letter at a time! The More You Know.

All the girls on LJ are named either Brittany/Britneee or Ashley/Ashleeee. ALL OF THEM. A lot of them are idiots and name fuckers. And a lot of these name fuckers are self-proclaimed MILFS. A MILF is a "mom I'd like to fuck," we all know this. Except, apparently, all these girls who don't understand "milf" is something SOMEONE ELSE calls you. You are basically saying you would like to go fuck yourself. I understand the sentiment, I'd like you to go fuck yourself too, but MILF: YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG.

So new rule. Don't call yourself a MILF if you're not a MILF. Don't call yourself a MILF if you are a MILF. If you are, in fact, a MILF you likely don't have to call yourself one, cause you're too busy being a mom, and... fucking people, I guess? If you call yourself a MILF, you likely have huge boobs (oh!), a huge gut (oh :/), wear tight clothes that squeeze random things out, are very horny and are sick of dealing with screaming and diaper rash and dream of a place where you're not wearing your sexy thong under size 16 mom jeans and you're not tired all the time and your hubby isn't a drunk redneck who knocks you up between NASCAR races, NO! You're a MILF dammit, just by virtue of being a mom, and you can prove it! Squeeze into your sexiest wal-mart jeans, show off that thong and tramp stamp, walk around for a while sticking your boobs out til some guy is like BLAM! GIANT BOOBS IN MY FACE! and makes the cartoon woogly eyes and lets out an involuntary grunt in the direction of your chest and TADA! You are now a MILF, because you're alive and have breasts and gave birth. I mean, you can see how she'd just naturally assume, right?



If you call yourself a MILF, this is how you'll appear in my head. You've been warned.

P.S. If you value, well... anything, do not google image "fat milf." EVER.

Side note: I do not understand thongs. Life is scary enough without your underwear constantly threatening to creep up your butt. :/

Political fuckery time! To the "comedian" who said the death of Khaddafy-Qidaffffblergh-Gesundheit-however-the-hell-you-spell-it-Libyan-name-fuckery means liberals need to kill Sarah Palin:

First of all, WHAT? Second, that's not even remotely humorous. Third, WHAT?



Mocking Sarah Palin: AWESOME, if a bit fish-in-a-barrely. Saying she, or anyone else a few ridiculous hats shy of being a dictator, should be killed: FUCKERY.

You know, I'm gonna skip over all the serious important stuff about WAY TO FUCK UP OUR STANCE ON NON-VIOLENT RHETORIC, JACKASS, and how really offensive and counterproductive and possibly dangerous that is (HI A WOMAN WAS ACTUALLY SHOT IN THE HEAD YOU MORON). Ok... I'm done skipping over that now. *cough*

Instead I will critique the "humor." Let's pretend for a moment it's ok to suggest killing innocent people. Ya with me? Good! The "joke" doesn't work because Sarah Palin has nothing to do with Qaddafiwhatsit. She isn't a crazed dictator, she doesn't kill people... and yeah, that's pretty much it. It's like saying hey, a kangaroo died in Australia today, everyone in Kansas must be shot! Kansas: Um, what? Kangaroos? Now if you were to suggest she be killed by say, a special ops caribou force, or a Fish Militia, or a Navy seal team of ACTUAL SEALS, that might be funny. Cause she kills that stuff! HAHAHAHA! Anything else is just random nonsense. (Ok, she probably doesn't actually kill seals. That's how you exaggerate without crossing the border into hate speech. Dig?)



Reindeer Green Berets: Whose head's gonna be hung over the mantle now, motherfucker?! *PEWPEWPEW*

Now that's funny. You're welcome.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Livejournal is also rife with name fuckery. From someone's userinfo banner: "I'm Brittany! Mommy to Aidynn and Rylan!" Hi, I'm VOMITING. Let's add extra letters for no reason and make random sounds! OOFBLURGH. There you go, you're welcome. "Brittany" is also kind of a puke name overall, but at least it's not "BRITNEE-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-" or whatever. I don't know why parents keep putting all those e's at the end of names, it sounds like their child is continuously rolling down a hill. "--EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-- ow."

Sunday, October 09, 2011

Dear Idiot Parents,

The name you are looking for is "Michaela." NOT "Makayla." Hooked on phonics did not work for you. Michaela is the feminine form of Michael. You wouldn't name your son "Makayl," would you... oh never mind, of course you would. I forgot who I was talking to.

Saturday, October 01, 2011

The 1.99? TOTALLY WORTH IT. I am so getting my money's worth out of this post. I bring you the RODEO PRINCESS PAGEANT in all its... let's just go with glory.

How every single episode begins (hence, my shiny new tags!): "There's gonna be some real stiff competition here at the (insert regional stereotype here) Princess Pageant. The judges will be looking for that total package (hi it's called Barbie and you can buy it at Wal-mart in an actual package. you're welcome) so be prepared to bring your A-game if you wanna take home the big cro-own (cut to giant pointy thing that looks like it should be docked somewhere at NASA) and win our Ultimate Grande Fiesta Burrito Supreme (hold the lettuce)!

We've got great girls coming in from every shitty small town where there's nothing else to do! We've got Madison, she's a real little diva (cut to the little diva making a face that would curdle milk), we also have Madison, who's sassy and really knows how to rock that stage (cut to her doing moves that would make Madonna blush), and finally Madison, who's new and I've never seen before." (Sorry Madison, I see a fako princess crown in your future).

Ho hum, heard it a million times. Except wait... this time, it's being said by a GIANT MIDDLE-AGED COWGIRL and her umm... femme life partner?
Stop! Everyone go up a shirt size.

This pageant is semi-slut, I mean, semi-glitz, which means no one has any fucking clue what it means. Let's start with Lynsie. This tragically-spelled name little girl wants to be a dancer in Vegas. I really hope she means when she grows up and not y'know, tomorrow, but honestly it's kind of hard to tell.
"We're going Borderline Glitz!" Mom exclaims. Ooh, a rebel. Just don't go too crazy girl, I don't wanna see what happens when you cross the border into GLITZ. I suspect your brain gets sucked out through a vacu-tube. "I like skulls, cause they're cool," Lynsie-dear-GOD-why-not-just-name-her-Lindsey says. So basically she's gonna be a Vegas showgirl who hooks up with bikers. Awesome. She's a cute little girl, dammit! Someone stop her before it's too late! Her dad looks befuddled by the whole thing, but he also looks like he might be befuddled by corn. It's Jimmy, Lynsie's dad! I bet all his friends call him Jimbo. Every single one. As Lynsie frolics in her stripper skull outfit that will one day win the heart of a lucky guy named Dirtbag, Dad muses "Ah guess it's lahk any sport, ya gotta wear the... protective gear... or somethin... derp." Yeah, let's just go with derp. Let's also hope Dirtbag decides to wear the "protective gear." And that's right folks, dad is chewing gum at the pageant. Well it's West Virginia so I sincerely hope it's gum... oh god it's not gum, is it. :( My favorite part? The T&T crew subtitling everything he says like he's speaking BULGARIAN instead of redneck English. Man, this guy is comedy gold. He should have his own show.

For her western princess whatever wear, she's squeezed into denim and sequins, given a "bag of sugar," and told to "rock that stage." REALLY. IT HAD NOT OCCURRED TO ME TO ROCK THAT STAGE. I WAS GOING TO SIT AND QUIETLY READ. THANK YOU FOR THE INFORMATION. She appears to lick sugar off mom's finger before going onstage. I know it's the rodeo pageant and all but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be the cowgirl, not the horse.
"This is my Daisy Duke outfit!" Um yeah... that's really not helping. I'm trying here! Oh hell, maybe you just can't fuck with destiny. Sorry, Lynsie. And I can't possibly type that name again without screaming, so moving on...

Kelci. AWESOME. You people do this just to annoy me, don't you? But pleasant surprise, this girl and her parents are normal and nice! I like them! Mom says "Kelci" (I'll grit my teeth and bear it) wants to be a model, and instead of the usual pageant mom delusion I can actually see this girl growing into a model. She has real natural beauty and grace, kind of how I imagine Gwyneth Paltrow or someone would have looked as a child. She has that pretty hair color too. And the best part? "I do natural pageants cause I want to show what I actually look like." HAL-LE-LUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLE-EEE-LU-JAAHHH! Why is this only just occurring to someone NOW?
Yay natural beauty! In case she wasn't cool enough, she has a pet HEDGEHOG. I'm JEALOUS. It's so cute and she kind of tries to pet it but it's too prickly. I may have said 'aww.' So yeah, nothing bad to say here except the dumb name and that's mom's fault, mom, you name fucker. But mom's nice too so I feel bad. BAH! Send me someone I can rip on before I start singing campfire songs or something.

Ah... it's Karmen with a K! Why a K? Who knows, maybe mom didn't want her to grow up to wear fruit on her head. The random K is really beside the point with this girl anyway, who gives us a coy look and says "sometimes I'm the devil." Ah, it's our resident Diva! Karmen is a FULL GLITZ girl in a SEMI GLITZ pageant. Clearly, something's gotta give.

The giant, possibly lesbian cowgirl comes out to remind us this is a SEMI GLITZ pageant, which means lots of sparkly shit but no orange skin, apparently. And uh oh, someone's been into the spray tanner! "Her hands give it away," a judge confides. "The hands are the toughest part to blend in." The judge seems pleased to have nabbed herself a tan rustler. I'm pleased because Karmen has a sneery 'tude that says, "I'm gonna beat all these ugly natural bitches!" Clearly she does not understand SEMI GLITZ. Well neither do I, but that's beside the point. The point is she has kind of a creepy Bad Seed vibe going on, like she wouldn't hesitate to beat another girl with her spangled cowboy boot to get that cro-own, so I'm glad she got caught, er... tan-handed.
"Semi this glitz, biotch!"

Gotta love a little girl who looks like she's always about to give you the finger. And now for something completely different, Karmen's "talent:" reciting the books of the Bible in a pink dress while pretending she's not the devil! I'm not gonna argue, that does take talent.
Stay tuned for the live exorcism!

Kelci was happy she caught her baton. Her mom was happy. Her grandma was happy. Her hedgehog was happy. And gosh darn it, I was happy too.
I kinda hope my daughter turns out like her. Sadly, she got stuck with runner-up. BOO. I didn't understand the titles in this one, which is to say I understood them even less than usual. There was no Ultimate Grande Latte with Extra Foam. The runner-ups got "princess court," and the winners got "princess," which usually means LOSER but I guess in West Virginia means WINNAH! Karmen got "Marion County Princess," which was the 2nd place supreme title. Lynsie won "Harrison County Princess" which in West Virginia-ese means ULTIMATE GRAND SLAM BREAKFAST, baby. "I guess they wanted a redneck beauty queen," she tells us. Truer words were never spoken.

One odd thing... the two rather um, large girls wearing cowboy hats who appeared randomly on stage throughout the pageant. It's not so much that they're chunky but that they're wearing brightly colored potato sacks instead of SEMI GLITZNESS, with inexplicable sashes.
I'm pretty sure this qualifies as NON GLITZ, LIKELY PURCHASED AT SEARS.

At the end they hand out the trophies, which is usually done by Miss Teenage Rodeo Queen or whatever in a slinky dress. Just what is going on here! Why are they dressed like tweedledee and tweedledum, only in less flattering outfits? What could those sashes possibly say? I kinda feel bad for these girls, they made me double take even more than Karmen's creepy emotionless singsong Bible chant. and that's saying something. Cause that will haunt my nightmares.

"Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, REDRUM, Numbers, Deuteronomy, YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"
I'm getting a distinct "chunky bat boy who's somehow related to the general manager" vibe here.

I also kind of wonder how 2nd place Marion County feels about that bitch Harrison County. I bet they secretly want to punch them in the face and rip off their cro-own. How was it determined who the lesser county is, anyway? Dance-off? Chili contest? Coin flip? Well next time bring your A-game, Marion County! You bunch of losers.

Tomorrow, I bring you Miss Georgia Spirit. And possibly something called the Chitlin Strut which I haven't watched yet because I'm scared. But for now, I leave you with this seemingly innocent news story. http://news.yahoo.com/recovery-mystery-pair-la-area-crashes-220449116.html - for within its bowels lurks the most awesome, horrifying, glorious piece of name fuckery I have ever witnessed. This kicks Sparkal and Makynli and even Saryniti straight to the curb. Ladies and gentlemen... I give you CHARDONNAY HOOKER. Go on, bask in it. No, it's not a private room at a strip club, it's not a girl trying to drum up business at a local vineyard, it's not even a hooker. At least, I don't think it is. To be fair they didn't mention her line of work. But I really, really hope she's something serious like a parole officer or Sunday school teacher or judge. "All rise for the Honorable Chardonnay Hooker!" bahahahaaha *falls off bed* ow.