Megan Amram

Dannon Birth Control on the Bottom

Wed, 23 Jan 2013 08:16:22 -0800

Dannon Birth Control on the Bottom

Corrections

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 09:18:09 -0800

The New York Times would like to issue corrections for the wedding announcement of Mr. Adam Penview to Ms. Katie Jasper that ran in yesterday’s paper.

We incorrectly identified in the announcement that Mr. Adam Penview and Ms. Katie Jasper were married at the Church of the Holy Trinity in Manhattan. They were married at St. Brigid’s.

Additionally, we inaccurately wrote that the groom “attended Cornell University and double-majored in English and Humping Other English Majors’ Girlfriends.” Mr. Penview, in fact, only majored in English. He did not major in “Humping Other English Majors’ Girlfriends,” as that is not currently an existing track of study at Cornell or any other accredited university.

We erroneously wrote yesterday that Mr. Penview was the “son of Dr. Ryan Penview, a third-generation ophthalmologist, and Mrs. Claire Penview, a Zuckerberg-ass beaver-bitch.” Mrs. Penview practiced law in New York State until 2004, and is considered by many to be a friendly and beautiful member of her community, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to Mark Zuckerberg or his rear end. “Beaver-bitch” is not a profession.

We mischaracterized the bride as having worn “a peace [sic] of shit mayonnaise tent. Also, you know how sometimes people see the Virgin Mary in stuff? It was like that, except you could see Hitler in the wedding dress, but specifically because she had hand-embroidered a picture of Hitler in her dress.” In truth, Ms. Jasper wore Amsale.

We incorrectly noted yesterday that the couple met “while the bride was dating the totally devoted and now very successful Assistant New York Times Wedding Section Editor Dan Gould. Dan guesses he just wasn’t good enough for you Katie, because you had to go hump that piece of shit Adam Penview that you met at the English major mixer while Dan left Ithaca for the weekend to go to his Nana’s 90^th birthday in Needham, Mass. Dan even brought you back a hat from the birthday party that said ‘Ethel’s Doin’ It For One Night Only.’ FYI, Adam, it counts as incest if you sleep with another English major’s girlfriend, since English majors are BASICALLY BROTHERS. Nana will live forever!!!” Though factually correct, the New York Times apologizes for the way in which Mr. Penview and Ms. Jasper’s first meeting and relationship history were portrayed. Additionally, the hat actually read “Ethel’s Not 90…She’s 89.95 Plus Tax.” She has since passed.

We wrote that the couple was married by “a dildo with googly eyes, which is the kind of freaky stuff Adam is into.” They were married by Father Norman Murray. Additionally, Mr. Penview is into regular stuff.

Yesterday, we printed that “God Katie sorry I’m writing all this I’ve taken a lot of Robitussin you are so beautiful. You look like a young Nancy Kerrigan. Oh God I love you.” In fact, Mr. Gould had only taken a moderate amount of Robitussin.

We wrote yesterday that “Katie sorry you can’t fucking deal with my Jew strength you blimp-bitch.” Ms. Jasper, in truth, can deal with said Jew strength.

Yesterday, we wrote “Katie, I’m so sorry, oh God, please come back, I think you can get weddings annulled really easily, it’s like a five-second rule type thing. Also Adam, I’m really sorry about all the googly eye stuff, I actually think you’re a pretty good guy, I once had a dream that you were a creature that had your torso and face but a gay man’s body and you saved me from Gwyneth Paltrow in ‘Contagion.’ Granted, I had taken a lot of Robitussin that night, but when I woke up I did feel sincerely indebted to the top-half of you.” I don’t know where to start. The New York Times is just so sorry for this entire paragraph.

Hey just kidding about all these things that we said we retracted, we’re just the dumb ol New York Times what do we know about anything but hard candy and old wrinkly balls!!!!!

We wrote in the paragraph above that “Hey just kidding about all these things that we said we retracted, we’re just the dumb ol New York Times what do we know about anything but hard candy and old wrinkly balls!!!!!” In actuality, Dan Gould just broke back into the Corrections Department and stole the computer that I’m writing this on. He has been promptly escorted from the building and arrested. In addition, The New York Times is an extremely current print newspaper that offers breaking unbiased news and fun crossword puzzles. Fuck Dan Gould.

We retract “Fuck Dan Gould.”

We apologize for these mistakes.

America: A Review

Wed, 04 Jul 2012 13:57:39 -0700

How to begin this review? Few countries that debuted in the 1700s have been as controversial or long running (it’s into its 236^th season now) as America. It may not have the staying power of perennial favorites such as China or the credibility of indie darlings such as Finland, but America has proven that it can at least make some cultural impact. It’s not the best, but hey, they can’t all be Louie.

America was originally a spinoff of the long-running England. Airing from the 1776-77 season through today, America focuses on a small ensemble of white people using things in the ground to become rich or kill brown people. A sprawling dramedy, it combines all of the loose plot points of a Tyler Perry sitcom with all the fun of being white.

It has widely focused on the themes of war, freedom, sitting, Fenway Park, maps, the one true Christian god, rugs, pregnancy tits, Vice Magazine, butterfaces, coal, butterdicks, “Where’s the Beef?,” Chicago, Larry Flynt, colonialism, Terri Schiavo, NBC single-camera sitcoms, toddlers, suicide pacts, Atari, penny farthing bicycles, SpaghettiO’s (Cool Ranch flavor), tiny dolls, the TLC show Sister Wives, H1N1, television, and genocide. It has some unique perspective every once in awhile, but honestly, America can be super derivative. Most of the stories have already been on The Simpsons.

A lot of episodes in America don’t really hold up. Slavery? Parachute pants? White slavery? It just feels really overdone now. Among the most memorable episodes are “The Civil War,” “Texas,” “World War” (a two-parter), and “Black President.”

Some of the storylines are also a bit of a stretch. Are they really expecting us to believe that they killed all the Indians and that all those Indians did to deserve it was invent Diabetes?! And come on – that stuff in the 9/11 episode could not have happened without someone working on the inside. That makes no sense. “9/11” jumped the shark. Hard.

It’s been on so long that no one wants to comment on the OBVIOUS PLOT HOLES. Such awful continuity. Like, how could it be explained that in season 170, George H.W. Bush fathered a retarded son, but then in season 225, that son became president?! Really terrible continuity. I would like to point out that I appreciate a recent callback to earlier plots. Around seasons 174-184, some of the anti-feminist and sexist storylines were put on the backburner, but it’s nice that we’ve seen a resurgence in this last season.

There’s a lot of homosexual undertones to the country. The Very Special Episode about Lewis & Clark was revised to not include the fact that they originally named Oregon after the French word for “gay-ween butt-orgy” (“Baguette”). Baseball, the “American Pastime,” is about using bats (“dicks”) to hit balls (“balls”) all while blowing each other in the dugout (“RBI”). And how about the American flag? Obviously 13 dicks going into 50 buttholes.

America has time and time again proved itself as a launching ground for young starlets. It’s fun seeing people before they became huge stars, like John Ritter, Stella McCartney, Theodore John “Ted” Kaczynski, and Ted “Ted” Bundy. But the ensemble works best when we see the regulars yearn for a raise or promotion, struggle with Mary Tyler Moore’s foibles and be there for Mary Tyler Moore when the going gets rough. I stole this from a review for The Mary Tyler Moore Show, but I think it completely and entirely makes sense to literally lift from that review and drop it into this context as well.

As someone with more quirky and alt tastes, I can’t say that America is my favorite thing to watch. I’m more into Breaking Bad. Have you seen season 4?! Season 4 of Breaking Bad is flawless. Season 4 of America is VERY uneven. It had no main black characters. Girls, much?! I love The Wire!

I just hope to God (the American/right one) that they don’t pull some deus ex machina shit at the end of this series. Like, there’s nuclear war with North Korea, or they’ve been dead the whole time or something.

Anyway, it may have veered off wildly from the pilot, but America is definitely worth a look. It’s an interesting experiment in the world of primetime sovereign nations. What the characters lack in consistency, they make up for in body weight, lingering racism, and inconsistency. But it makes for a quick and easy viewing, and can often surprise you with heartfelt turns. It’s like eating Cool Ranch SpaghettiO’s on a warm summer’s eve. And hey, sometimes things get really good right before they’re cancelled.

MY RATING: 50 stars (out of 100).

Kickstarter: National Debt

Tue, 15 May 2012 12:00:00 -0700

ABOUT THIS PROJECT

Hi you guys! Joe Biden and the rest of the gang here! :) We’re looking for some awesome people to help us Kickstart our dream project of having a functioning federal government! That’s where you come in: all we’re asking for is a little help. And twenty trillion dollars.

As you may know, we (the United States government) are a little strapped for cash. Salvage a first-world government’s economy? In this economy?! As the kids say, “LOL!” (Laugh On Line!) We may be the ones responsible for “this economy” in the first place but still. Uncle Sam may have gotten us into this mess, but WE WANT YOU…to GET US OUT!

There is little if any funding available for small-to-midsize debt-based projects such as this. Through Kickstarter, with your support, the country that you live in can remain a free sovereign nation instead of having to sell Ohio to China, cause then Ohio would probably start speaking Chinese, and that’s FUCKED UP.

A LITTLE BACKGROUND:

For those of you who don’t know, the USA is the best! Originally from England, the United States government has been a major world power since it was founded in 1776. The U.S. has brought you such great things such as sugar, mistresses, and obesity. Proud home to milk and Ashton Kutcher. Really into righteous wars!

For those of you into civil rights: no slavery! For those of you into slavery: we used to have slavery!

Imagine that famous picture on the cover of Sports Illustrated of Terri Schiavo holding an American flag. That’s our flag! On second thought, I think that was a painting I did in 2004 after doing grass for one of the first times. Still, she looks great in a tankini. As the kids say, “LOL!” (LOL A Lot!)

THE PROJECT:

We’d like the United States to be fiscally autonomous. It’s been in the works for many years now, and we think it could be great. Thanks to Kickstarter, we have a chance to reach individuals who will personally bail us out of this mess. How great, for us!

I know it’s a crazy dream, but hey – this is a country of dreamers. Dreamers, and Christians.

HELP US, BACKERS, YOU’RE OUR ONLY HOPE!:

Just a little Star Wards humor for ya!

“LOL!”:

Live A Little! Give A Lot (“GOL”)!

PLEASE PLEDGE!:

We’ve tried pretty much everything else at this point: war, selling some cars, literally making more money (you’d think that would work!!), blaming people, blaming gay “people,” war, and debt. None of that has touched the debt. Except debt, which has made the debt worse. Also, war!

If we’re able to meet our Kickstarter goal, you will have literally been part of a miracle. A miracle in the great Judeo-Christian tradition of this fair country. Of dreamers!

BACK THIS PROJECT

PLEDGE $10 OR MORE

For your fairly useless donation to help the United States of America not founder under the multi-trillion dollar debt that we have amassed over decades of misspending and unnecessary wars that some may argue constitute war crimes, you get a tote.

PLEDGE $20 OR MORE

If you donate $20, we will list you as an associate producer of the Government by carving your name into the Vietnam War Memorial. You can tell all your friends you’re a ghost because you died in the Vietnam War! You know – the righteous one!

PLEDGE $25 OR MORE

I didn’t want to say this to the $20 people, but those guys are assholes. What kind of an asshole only donates $20 to a multitrillion dollar debt that is growing by 4 billion every day and has no sign of slowing? $25, now that’s the MONEY-money! If you donate $25, you get a tote (large).

PLEDGE $50 OR MORE

You’ve finally taken the responsibility of the country into your own hands! I will make you a tie-dye t-shirt and cook you and five of your friends a hot dog BBQ at my gf’s place. I date her for her BBQ pit.* She’s like a 4. But she’s got a sweet pit. *I call her vagina her “BBQ Pit.”

PLEDGE $100 OR MORE

If you pledge $100, which so far only my mom has done and Barack’s mother-in-law has done (let’s get on this, people), you will not only receive Special Thanks in the State of the Union as well as on the back of all nickels minted this year at the Denver mint, but Stephanie, our videographer, will take you to a Foster the People (“FOPOL”) cover band (“Foster!”) concert on October 28th, and yes, you can tell people it’s a date. This concert’s going to be great! They’re going to play “Pumped Up Kicks” 14 times and then, maybe if you clap enough, they’ll do an encore and it will be “Pumped Up Kicks”!!!

PLEDGE $100,000 OR MORE

Well HEY there, Mr. Hollywood producer!! A pledge of one hundred thousand dollars or more will get you a walk-on role in the next meeting of Congress. Your vote for bills and propositions will be legally binding, so have fun! Don’t name any public parks after racial slurs!

PLEDGE $1,000,000 OR MORE

Here’s Louisiana.

PLEDGE $1,000,000,000 OR MORE

We will change the American Flag!! We will replace each star with your face. Unless you’re black, since the stars are white and it really makes sense for them to be as close to white as possible. Though, if you’re giving a billion dollars, we’ll assume you’re white or maybe a Dubaian light brown!!!!!!!

PLEDGE $1,000,000,050 OR MORE

Everything from the $1,000,000,000 level, plus a tote.

PLEDGE $1,000,000,000,000 OR MORE

Start whatever war you want!! You want a new Civil War where Asians have to fight their brown Asian brothers???? You got it, bucko!!!! Hate crime Pollacks? A PLUS+++. You want to take over Ireland? Those Pollacks haven’t done anything in years. JUST want to kill Disney Channel kid stars?!? THAT’S PRACTICALLY LEGAL ALREADY! Kill a girl. Kill a kid. You got it.

PLEDGE $20,000,000,000,000 OR MORE

Kill so many kids. (KOL!)

Ayn Randers

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 15:00:13 -0700

Dear Ayn,

I’m dating a man who I think I love, but I’m afraid he’s having an affair. He comes home late, he acts suspiciously, and he even has red lipstick on his collar. Should I confront him or just hope for the best?

- County Af-fair

Dear County,

Red lipstick? Your husband is a Communist. Divorce him and sell his clothes, children, and pens to make money to spend on cars, human slaves, and bigger pens. This will simultaneously stimulate the economy and punish the slaves for not having jobs. Slaves: what lazybones!

Hope this helps,

Ayn,

Dear Ayn,

I’m trying to figure out which color dress to get my daughter for her First Communion. Is red gauche?

- Paint the Dress Red

Dear Paint,

Hmmm, this is a tough one. On one hand, I hate Communism (“Reds”). On the other hand, I hate religion. On the third hand, I hate women. FYI, do you know how I got that third hand? I bought it from a child! Ho HO! He was easily tricked into selling me his hand for a nickel and a pious man’s drum! I have a baker’s dozen child-hands in my glove compartment!!!!

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

My baby daughter is turning one year old, and I don’t know if I should throw her a birthday party or not. What should I do? I’d appreciate any advice.

- One is the Loneliest Number

Dear One,

DO NOT reward this tiny unemployed Jew with a party. Your so-called “baby” is most likely an immigrant (read: LAZYBONE) who doesn’t contribute to her family’s income and gives terrible, poor-people gifts like HD-DVDs and sand. Unrelated question: does your baby have any spare hands?

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

My in-laws are coming to Thanksgiving dinner at my house for the first time. I’m not great at hosting: how do I make sure we have enough food and that we all get along?

- Turkey Lurkey

Dear Lurkey,

The lavish Thanksgiving meal is a symbol of the fact that abundant consumption is the RESULT AND REWARD OF PRODUCTION. Do you see a poor “person” on the street? (NOTE: I put “person” in quotes because poor people are more like CHAIRS in my book because you should SIT on them.) Ask this “person” (read: chair) for his half-sandwich for your Thanksgiving meal. Does he not relinquish that symbol for all American pride, the half-sandwich? Does he not relinquish his half-BLT, his half-PB&J? Distract him with some sort of juvenile puppet-based theater and steal that half-sandwich. That is YOUR HALF-SANDY, for YOU ARE GOD. YOU ARE GOD. YOU ARE A GOD EATING A HALF-HAM-AND-CHEESE SANDY. Note: to be clear, it is half of a ham-and-cheese sandwich, not a whole half-ham and cheese sandwich.

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

Are you the warrant and the sanction?

- Dawdling In Dallas

Dear Dawdling,

I am the warrant and the sanction.

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

I don’t mean to be offensive, but your writing is overwhelmingly juvenile and one-note. How did you become such an influential figure, a cornerstone of the landscape of American conservative politics? You write like a petulant child.

- Hollis Hurlbut, Professor of Comparative Literature, Harvard University

Dear Hollis,

Your mom’s juvenile.

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

I’m in Los Angeles for a day and I don’t have much spending cash. What are some fun things to do that are cheap and easy?

- SoCal SoCheap

Dear SoCal,

Here are some options:

Tattoo “laissez faire” on a celebrity’s bagel.

Build a statue of me, Ayn Rand, out of cheap materials (rose gold, the word of a liberal, Mexican day labor).

Throw that statue at the Chair who built it (aim for the throat).

Go to the zoo and taunt an animal smaller than you (human children count).

Make a coat out of some Dalmatians.

Push a baby into another baby and point and laugh while they cry and then trip the babies and then laugh more at those babies that you tripped.

Make a coat out of someone with Medicare.

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

I’m considering becoming a Communist. Should I become a Communist?

- Commie Dearest

Dear Commie,

No.

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

If I yell enough at gays and Jews and Mexicans and Michael J. Foxes, will my daddy love me? Will he kiss me on the face and not throw paperweights at my face and love me?

- Rush Limbaugh

Dear Rush,

Yes.

Hope this helps,

Ayn

Dear Ayn,

I caught my wife reading Atlas Shrugged the other day. She’s been acting strange ever since: yelling for no reason, physically harming children, stealing from those poorer than us, hating other women. Do you know what’s wrong?

Sincerely,

Atlas My Love Has Come Again

Dear Atlas,

Women can’t read.

Ayn

Shakespearean Spam

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 14:30:55 -0700

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you will keep reading

No, Thank YOU,

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VENCEDOR - notificaзгo final::

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LOVE,

hamlet

OMG just saw the original version of that Sarah McLachlan animal...

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 15:03:06 -0800

OMG just saw the original version of that Sarah McLachlan animal cruety “Angel” video…this is SO crazy, omg

Paula Deen’s Health Food Cookbook

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 10:38:00 -0800

Recently, Paula Deen has admitted that she’s had Type II Diabetes for years. Accordingly, she’s putting out a cookbook of healthy food. Here are some excerpts!

FRUIT SALAD

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb. bag of Skittles

3 cups ranch dressing

DIRECTIONS:

Mix well. Serve room temperature.

PAULA’S BROWN RICE

INGREDIENTS:

1 pilaf white rice

1 bowl melted Junior Mints

DIRECTIONS:

Cover rice in chocolate. Serve with maple syrup to taste. To splurge, top with a sprinkle of sausage calzones.

SCRAMBLED EGG WHITES

INGREDIENTS:

1 dozen (12) Cadbury eggs

2 lbs. Frito crumbs

1 package extra-fat pork lard

1 pilaf Paula’s brown rice

DIRECTIONS:

Break the Cadbury eggs and harvest the crème-filled white centers. Dip them in the Frito crumbs. Put the lard (make SURE to get the extra-fat kind or it will be BLAND) in a frying pan on high heat, and fry the crème centers until golden-brown. Serve on a bed of Paula’s brown rice.

PAULA’S GARDEN BURGER

INGREDIENTS:

3 bags Olive Garden® Endless Breadsticks

12 Olive Garden® Stuffed Mushrooms

1 plate Olive Garden® New! Baked Pasta Romana with Chicken

4 Olive Garden® Black Tie Mousse Cakes

1 slice American cheese (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

Smash all of the Olive Garden® foods together until they resemble a large patty and top with cheese. For lowest calories, hold the cheese.

PAULA’S GUILT-FREE FAT-FREE® SMOOTHIE

INGREDIENTS:

34 lbs. sugar

DIRECTIONS:

Put sugar in smoothie glass and drink with straw, serve chilled in white wine tumblers or, for special occasions, lap from trough. This delicacy is guilt-free since you can make a conscious choice not to feel guilty about anything you put in your body like Paula does!

BUFFET AND A BURGER

INGREDIENTS:

1 burger

1 Las Vegas buffet

Christmas-themed elastic pants (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

Go to Las Vegas buffet. Make sure the buffet has burgers, or provide your own. Do NOT walk around the buffet. Get a motorized scooter, or stay in one spot and use a jaws of life to pick some of each buffet food out of the tubs and put it on your burger. Elastic pants are nice because your gupa (gunt-fupa) stays nicely inside the stretchy pants except for a few folds of fat with stretch marks that seep out of the pants.

PAULA’S GUILT-FREE® PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLIES

INGREDIENTS:

1 peanut

18 sticks of butter, mashed

1 pair Jellies shoes

DIRECTIONS:

Cover the shoes with butter and top with the peanut, and then eat the shoes. If you eat shoes it’s like you’re exercising so it’s VERY healthy.

PAULA’S GUILT-FREE® PIZZA PANTS

INGREDIENTS:

10’x20’ swath of pizza

Another pizza to use as pepperonis on the pizza

Stuffed mushrooms

FYI the mushrooms are stuffed with smaller pizzas

Smuckers magic shell ice cream topping

Rolos

Coca-cola

3 bags gummy bears

Fondue

Caesar salad dressing

Wood chips (as a thickener)

Grenadine syrup

Butter-flour mixture

Pizza Pockets

1 sewing machine

1 sewing pattern for pants (size XXXL)

DIRECTIONS:

Mushrooms are a vegetable and there are definitely some mushrooms on that pizza so technically they are HEALTHY-style pizza pants. Take the really big pizza. Put all of the other ingredients on the pizza. Pour the coke on the pizza. Dip the pizza in the fondue, and resist eating it before you make it into pants, no cheating!!! Sew that pizza into pants using the machine and the pattern. Make sure to sew in some pockets so you can keep a few extra spare Pizza Pockets in your pizza pockets!!!! Then eat your pants!!!!!!!!!!!

PAULA’S GUILT-FREE® TURTURTURDUCKDUCKENDUCKEN

INGREDIENTS:

3 turduckens

DIRECTIONS:

Stuff a turducken in a turducken in a turducken. While you’re waiting for it to cook, make your fat niece make you some pizza pants while you’re watching Pawn Stars and eat your pants and then slap your niece.

INSULIN AU GRATIN

INGREDIENTS:

1 insulin shot

15 lbs. block of cheddar cheese

DIRECTIONS:

Bury insulin shot in cheese. When you’re going into a diabetic coma, just eat your way to the shot!! Eat the cheese fast or you’ll die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SPARKLING WATER

INGREDIENTS:

1 glass sparkling water

1 ham

DIRECTIONS:

Put ham in water.

Bad Adjectives To Use At A Wine Tasting

Mon, 02 Jan 2012 09:54:43 -0800

Curdled

Chubby

Shrimp-flavored

Like white wine but red

Boiling

Deep-dish

Circumcised

Like bad wine

Black

Tastes like what I had as a kid in the orphanage

Wife material

Like booze-gravy

Winey

Gay

New Year's Resolutions: Year 3012

Sat, 31 Dec 2011 12:51:00 -0800

Lose fifteen pounds from your problem areas (hips, fifth and fourteenth space-boobs, vestigial face)

Spend more time with your government-rationed .452 of a son or daughter

Take the family on a trip to www.nature.com

Volunteer at your local chapter of the White People Remembrance League (white people have been extinct since 2021, you are an exotic mixture of brown and Asian and Roomba)

Read the Bible, especially the part that is a novelization of “We Bought A Zoo 624: Zoo-n Yi Previn,” which is all the parts

Pray to the Mother Goddess Zooey Deschanel, who first displayed her omnipotent god powers at the 2014 People’s Choice Awards by renewing “19 Kids And Counting” for 998 more seasons

Watch less TV, even though “5,731,476,425,736 Kids And Counting” is SO good

Learn moon-French

Write a screenplay called “We Bought A Zoo 625: We Bought A Zoo-ey Deschanel”

Vote for “5,731,476,425,736 Kids And Counting” in the 3012 People’s Choice Awards for “Best Show Where A Human Lady is Basically A Spider’s Egg Sac With Stretch Marks”

Vote for “Zooey Deschanel” in the 3012 People’s Choice Awards as “Best Deity,” “Only Deity,” and “~*~Kewlest~*~ Bangs”

Buy a new Moon Bounce (here on the moon we just call them “Bounces”)

Get promoted from “slave to Zooey Deschanel” to “human sacrifice to Zooey Deschanel” (lateral promotion)

Organize your space-boobs by type (normal, space, brown, formal, or Chicago-style)

Be all like, “how is it the future and they STILL haven’t invented flying cars” (am I right ladies!!!!!!)

Kill Dick Clark

Quiz: Do You Have Cancer?

Sun, 23 Oct 2011 14:10:21 -0700

Do you have cancer? Find out with this fun, flirty quiz!!

1. It’s the middle of class and your crush looks over to see you:

a. Texting him!

b. Paying attention to the teacher. Come on – it’s class!

c. Picking at a large new mole that has recently developed on your forearm!

2. When you’re out with your friends, you are:

a. Gossiping about the cute new boy in 4^th period bio!

b. Sharing negative cancer test results over some Frappuccinos (pumpkin fraps, come on – it’s fall, sluts)!

c. Bleeding from your tumors, you total slut! (Bleeding from tumors = getting to “second-base”!!)

3. If you could change one part of your body, it would be:

a. Your abs and/or abdominals!

b. Your c-section scar you post-natal slut!

c. The lumps you recently found in your left breast a.k.a. “Thelma” ;) (Finding a lump in your breast = getting to “first-base”!!)

4. You and your guy are curling up on a snowy night. What do you do?

a. Kiss a little, nothing further – you’re a good girl you’re no slut ;)!

b. Go all the way – you’re a naughty girl and some would say the “slut” of the night school/Hebrew School :p!

c. Die!

5. The pop song that most describes you is:

a. “Pumped Up Kicks” (like ANYONE can resist that great song!! Anyone who says they don’t like that song is a total slut, sexually)

b. “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” (honestly, one of the best songs by one of the best bands EVER, The Beatles! Ever heard of ‘em? ;) They don’t need to sing about sluts to be so sexy/slutty!)

c. “My Humps” (referring to the humps/lovely lady lumps in your breasts)

6. If you met a cancer doctor, you’d say:

a. “Hey, you’re a sexy doctor! Wanna listen to Foster the People and touch my Jew-nips?”

b. “Hey, I’m a good girl but that doesn’t mean I’m above being a slut, wanna touch my Jew-nips to the sounds of Foster the People, this generation’s The Beatles?”

c. “I have cancer, gllrrrrrrrrrssh” [the sound of blood gurgling out of your femur marrow]

7. When it comes to sports, you:

a. Are a sports-slut!

b. Are a sports-slut but for sex (so just a plain ol’ slut)!

c. Are dead from dying from overdosing on cancer!

8. If your life was an MTV show, it would be called:

a. “MTV’s Slut-Ass Bitch-Ass Slut”!

b. “Teen-Mom’s MTV Jew-Nips”!

c. “Sixteen and Cancerous”!

MOSTLY A’S:

You go girl – you don’t have cancer! You are also the quintessential flirt, you slut! ;) Also, try wearing “winter” colors like blue, purple, or green. Also, you are a vampire. Also, you are a slut. Also, you’re the movie “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II.” Also, you’re an iPad II. Also, you’re a farmhand you slut.

MOSTLY B’S:

No cancer, but probably you are a slut! But the good kind! You’re a slutty bagel. You’re the kind of girl who wears mascara on both lashes which is fairly slutty but fool-proof to make boys want to give you the Hoobastank. You’re the kind of a girl another girl would see and be like “girls are idiots” but really she’s an idiot girl too because all girls are idiots and sluts. If you have a crush, you should try texting him a flirty message like “Hello! I am a slut!” Also, you’re a Zune you slut.

MOSTLY C’S:

You have cancer! You big-jugged slut! You have cancer!

Political Ben & Jerry's Flavors: 2011

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 17:00:01 -0700

Rick Berry

Malt Romney

Occu-Pie Wall-nut

Donut Ask, Don’t Caramel

ChocoPie GumBall Street

Women’s Right to Chews* (*Taffys)

Marshmell’ Bachmann

Marshmell’ Choc-mint

Troy Davis’ Capital PunishMint

Rick Santorum Is A Homosexual Assdouche Fudge Swirl

Snickerhead Ranch

Anniversary

Sun, 11 Sep 2011 14:42:55 -0700

One year ago today, I got in the driver’s seat of a car that my mother paid for and gave me and drove from Portland, Oregon to Los Angeles, California to (at most) flourish and (at least) not die. Ten years ago today, some normal-sized people hijacked some normal-sized planes and flew them into the Twin Towers in New York City, two of the tallest buildings in the United States of America, and killed nearly three thousand people. They killed thousands of people, and they psychologically killed thousands of others and ushered in an age of broken America and they made the date 9/11 into something more than it ever should be. It should be some lame day in mid-September where a lame kid complains about going back to some lame school. Instead, it’s an anniversary.

How many is 3,000? I guess I know the answer to that. It’s a little more than 2,994 and much less than 2,498,670,210,952. But realistically, my brain can’t comprehend more than about 322. That’s how many kids could fit in my high school auditorium, where my twin brother and I once did an interpretative dance as Hitler for a class final (we got an A; suck it, Hitler). I can’t estimate. If I had to guess, I would say there are exactly 100 sites on the Internet. So the tragedy that is 9/11 (or the Holocaust, or Darfur, or…) is too big for my small brain. And there’s a special subset of suburban guilt reserved for the inability to comprehend a horror.

Part of the reason that I can’t make myself feel the grotesque grandeur of 9/11 is that I’ve never been in a tragedy. I’ve experienced bad, but I’ve never experienced tragic in the epic, transformative, Greek sense of the word. Tragedy is like a branding iron. Everyone who lives through it becomes a product of that tragedy. You realize you’re just a slab of meat. You might continue living your life in a fairly normal straight line, but that tragedy knows to whom you belong. You have its smoldering mark on your body.

I’ve never been disfigured by tragedy, but I have felt joy. Transformative joy. Whatever the opposite of 9/11 is, I have felt that. I have experienced the not-small miracle of being able to do what I love. I am healthy enough that I don’t think about how healthy I am. I get to live in the fun house mirror that is Los Angeles. LA is so silly, in the most benign sense of the word. Its streets are stupid and benign. Because I’m privileged and young and white, I am blessed enough to not know about the streets in LA that aren’t silly and stupid and benign.

Because of that, it’s easier for me to imagine one year ago today than it is for me to imagine ten years ago today. On September 11, 2001, I was in eighth grade and I very calmly thought to myself, “Well! I will not ever play varsity volleyball in high school, because the world is over.” On September 11, 2010, I took the first steps of what would become my pilgrimage to my dreams. For the past year, I have attempted to slowly close in on my dreams in concentric circles. For me, the world began on the same day that it ended, albeit nine years apart. (Spoiler alert: I never ended up playing varsity volleyball anyway, due to my doughy, Jewish physique.)

I can’t think of a better day to speak directly to my “demographic” – skinny 18-to-34-year-olds and spam bots. I am talking to YOU right now, Tweeters and Tumblrers and Bloggers and whatever the HECK else portmanteaus we can whip up while sitting in ironic coffee shops ironically listening to Spotify. We are coming of age in a culture not of un-enjoyment, but of anti-enjoyment. Passion is not just superfluous – passion is weakness. If you like things, you might like the wrong things, and then you’re WRONG with a capital “DOUBLE-U” with a capital “D”, and then you’re BAD and ugly and FAT and SUPER FAT. The Internet can’t figure out whether it wants to beatify things or damn them, so it just gets all sorts of contentious. Contention on the Internet is silly in the worst sense of the word. Personally, I hate confrontation. I like to think of myself as a sickly Victorian child, or a maybe a sickly geisha. Very demure and easily persuaded and sickly. If the Internet is a super highway, we all have road rage.

To participate in this chic backlash against passion is to have a small mind. In my humble, unimportant, normal-sized opinion, it is better to have a small BRAIN than a small MIND. If you have a small brain, you can still be a good, kind, hard-working, dumb person who can manage some sort of farm or daycare. If you have a small mind, however, you very well might hurt people with it. You are just getting a sliver of the delicious Bacon, Ham, & Cheese Lean Pocket that is being young in America.

Spending your youthful energy on combative, kinetic apathy is a waste. Stuff is AWESOME, GUYS. Something about everything is awesome. Because I live in LA, CA, USA and not other places in the world, I get to write things like “fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck FUCK” on the Internet (the title of my next blog post). I can condemn Burkas while comfortably wearing a Snuggie (a gateway Burka). I can do an interpretative dance as Hitler for 322 people (suck it, Hitler). I can do whatever I want (sort of) and I can eat whatever I want (not carbs) and be the opposite of dead.

The people who, ten years ago today, flew those planes into the sides of two of the tallest buildings in America had minds that were even smaller than mine (and possibly yours, if you’re wearing a shirt from Threadless Tees). Their worldview was so closed to interpretation that they thought the only answer was a large-scale terrorist attack. I’m not saying Hipsters are Terrorists (though that is a very funny sentiment that I never thought I’d get the chance to write). I am saying that closing your mind to sincerity and praise and appreciation might be the first step in squandering the fucking awesome human condition you possess. Please do not close your mind to the not-small epiphany that epic joy exists.

Please, PLEASE feel free to completely disregard and disagree with and disJimBelushi (I made that word up, because I CAN, IN AMERICA) this essay. Why should you listen to me, when I’m forehead-deep in the disaffected goo that is my generation? I’m sitting in a hipster coffee shop in Hollywood, a living, breathing, self-important, self-hating cliché. My caveat is, I sort of wrote this for myself. I want to read this diary entry in one more year, or ten more years, or three-hundred-and-twenty-two more years, and see how wonderful and confusing it is to be happy and young in the face of slaughter.

If you are reading this, you are not dead. I myself happen to be very not dead. I’m giddy and sleepy and fighting the need to pee and listening to one of my favorite songs (“True” by Spandau Ballet) and physically not dead. I make enough money to waste it. I’m spoiled enough to be addicted to the culture of coffee. I wear rainbow sunglasses every day. I have a crush on 40% of the boys in my gchat bar. Jesus, this is awesome. I want to be not dead every day of my life.

I love LA and I love NY and I love America and I love being not dead. Happy anniversary(s). Here’s to one and ten more.

Ed Hardy, Art Historian

Sat, 20 Aug 2011 17:15:00 -0700

MONA LISA (LEONARDO DA VINCI)

What up what up what up!!!!!! Let’s talk about some weak-ass gay-ass art! I’m Ed EFFIN’ Hardy and I’m gonna be your M-F-in’ DOCENT! Which is just a silly fancy McGaylord way of saying “art yeller-at-er”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I got a B.A. in ART from internet college (WebMD.com, MAYBE YOU’VE HEARD OF IT) and a Four Loko in my MAN PURSE. I’m ready to GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So: the Mona Lisa. This is trash. TRASH. How many tigers or skulls are in this painting? THE ANSWER IS ZERO, WHICH IS THE GAYEST NUMBER OF SKULLS OR TIGERS YOU CAN HAVE IN A PAINTING. Put some tigers around the Mona Lisa’s head and then, boom, you got the HARDY LISA. Now her little smile means “yeah, I got some bomb-ass tigers around my head, what you gonna do about it? Let’s make out and then go ivory poaching at Epcot!!!!” BOOM.

THE PERSISTANCE OF MEMORY (SALVADOR DALI)

THIS IS TRASH. Which is like what I initially said about the Mona Lisa but MUCH LOUDER, AS IF IT WAS IN ALL CAPS IN A CHAT ROOM FROM 2002!!!!!

Um can someone say GAY?? I mean, I know I can, as I have proven before and will prove again: GAY GAY-GAY (sung to the tune of “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga which is DOUBLE GAY). Here we got some clocks – which rhyme with “cocks” which is urban slang for “wangs” – and some beige-ass desert shit. Only colors that should ever be in art: NEON GREEN, NEON PINK, THE COLOR OF A BOOB (MANY DIFFERENT OPTIONS), FLOURESCENT TIGER, NEON PEEN (PINK + GREEN OR THE COLOR OF A PEEN, MANY DIFFERENT OPTIONS), FOUR LOKO BARF.

THE LAST SUPPER (LEONARDO DA VINCI)

I may not know art (jk I do), but I know what I like/that if I had a Swiss Hardy Knife, here is what I would put in it: scepter, tiger, tiny gun, Lisa Frank art kit, boobs and/or tits, Guy Fieri.

OK, so, the Last Supper! It’s an unbelievably beautiful depiction of Jesus’ last moments of peace. HAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! More like Gay-sus’ last gayments of GAY! Did you see how I just replaced all major syllables of what I just said with “gay”?! That was in order to highlight the gay nature of the art!! NAILED THAT, ED. (He gives himself a high five, then sucks his own peen.) Now, in my humble opinion (IHOP), this painting could use some awesomeness, like a naked chick with rainbows for mush-melons. Maybe some tie-dyed roses and pizzas? OR A P’ZONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE GIRL WITH THE PEARL EARRING (JOHANNES VERMEER)

More like the Girl With The Pearl Necklace.* (*More like the Girl With The Lion Made Out Of Tigers*) (*Good one, Ed, lion made out of tigers, write that one down for a future design)

AMERICAN GOTHIC (GRANT WOOD)

Slap me with homing sausage and call me “Susan B. Cameltoe” because literally this painting could not be worse or gayer. Two old men holding a gay little salad fork?!?! It makes me more barfaroni than my recent meal of nine Four Lokos, a Slim Jim (no homo), a long banana (no homo), and a meat lovers P’Zone (no homo). This is gayer than Gay Gay Milne.

NUMBER FIVE (JACKSON POLLOCK)

This is a bunch of color swizzles. But some of the swizzles look like a neon skull on the crest of a tsunami made out of Blood Diamonds, so in that way this painting is great!

THE SCREAM (EDVARD MUNCH)

Oh my God an awesome joke when I was doing the Mona Lisa would have been “Mona Lisa Car,” like “Mona, lease a car.” Holy SHIT, ED, WRITE THAT DOWN!!!!!!!!!

AN ED HARDY VELOUR TRACK SUIT (ED HARDY)

This is art. This is art. This looks like stickers for a 7^th grade girl who’s gotten into her dad’s speedball.

GUERNICA (PABLO PICASSO)

Guys I’m gay.

My Favorite Harry Potter Spells

Sun, 17 Jul 2011 15:46:13 -0700

Avada Kedavra

Expecto Patronum

Mariska Hargitay

Finite Incantatem

Tupac Shakur

Colbert Report

Jamba Juice

Homenum Revelio

Iced Carmel Macchiato

Terri Schiavo

Malignant Carcinoma

Carmageddon

Bosnia and Herzegovina

Wingardium Leviosa

Bingblardium Bleviblosa

Carmageddon Carmageddon Carmageddon Carmageddon Carmageddon Carmageddon

Pilates Instructor

How I Met Your Mother

Abracadabra

What I Imagine "Game Of Thrones" Is Like Based On Never Having Seen An Episode Of "Game Of Thrones" & Only Hearing My Friends Talk About It

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 09:03:31 -0700

The sun rises over a castle, a castle made of swords and pegasuses and gargoyles shaped like dongs. In the distance, 100 concubines have sex with their sisters and step-dads.

EDDARD STARK: I, Eddard Stark, am a warrior of the Dawn-Dune. I have bedded many lady-women in the dew of Beowulf’s May-Pole.

LORD PATYR “LITTLEFINGER” BAELISH: I, Lord Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish, have blood made out of dragons-blood. That’s why they call me Lord Petyr “Dragons-blood” Baelish.

TYRION LANNISTER: Jeez, it sure is tough to be incestuous and horny at the same time. I’m so incestuous and horny, I could just bone my sister!!!!!

Enter KING ROBERT BARATHEON, followed by 24,635 extras and 365,674 main characters.

EDDARD: I am Eddard. My friends call me, “Ned,” and IMBD calls me, “played by Sean Bean.”

KING ROBERT BARATHEON: Eddard, I am a king. I have forgotten my name and most plot points, as there are many plot points.

Prince Viserys Taragaryen rapes some nymphs while sharpening a sword on his sister’s demon-boob.

LORD PATYR “LITTLEFINGER” BAELISH: This is a sword, and what is a sword but a metal dragon that is shaped like a sword?

PRINCE VISERYS TARAGARYEN: I’m winning the Game Of Thrones. I have the most points and the least technical fouls in this Game. This Game of Thrones.

KING ROBERT BARATHEON: Is my name “Rick”?

He rolls a many-sided die, since this show is maybe some sort of elaborate role-playing video game, maybe.

BILBO BAGGINS: This is Lord of The Rings, right?

FRODO BAGGINS: Yes.

Enter JAIME LANNISTER, an important member of the 92,924,024-person cast. He has just finished elaborately sexing a glimmering satyr with his shimmering be-amuleted penis. P.S. There are 356,753,103 satyrs in this show. They are half-horse/half-sexy horse.

JAIME LANNISTER: The King must be fore-slain.

TYRION LANNISTER: That showed insolence. TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR.

Tyrion stabs Jaime through the heart with his fist, then makes love to the heart-hole. Just kidding, it is a violent and vengeful hate-boning. In the background, a beautiful angel masturbates.

OBI WAN KENOBI: This is Star Wars, right?

BLADERUNNER: Yes.

KING ROBERT BARATHEON: Is my name “Rick”? Is my name “King Rick”?

HARRY POTTER: Yes.

In the background, a googolplex sex-slaves are giving birth to sons and having sex with their infant sons as soon as they are born.

PRINCE FAJHO RJETIEODF: I am character in this Game. In This Game Of Thrones.

PRINCESS UW(RJGA JFDISHJT: Me too.

PRINCE FGJYEI GJFS/SFGIJJS&FGII*JSSIJIFGSJ: Me too.

PRINCE THE REAL-LIFE SINGER: Me too.

PRINCESS CRUISES: Me too.

THOR: This is Tron, right?

CARS 2: Yes.

HBO: Yes.

Upcoming Urban Outfitters Books

Sun, 29 May 2011 16:17:40 -0700

Hot Sad Girls With Gout

100 Recipes For Tea You Can Put Your Dick In

Where’s Waldo?: Coachella Edition

Indians Dressed Up As The Other Type Of Indians

Ronald Reagan Looking At Cameltoes

How To Quit Quitting Smoking

Girls With Bangs With Rosacea

4 Hipstamatic Pictures of Dead Stepmoms

Beardception: A Beard Within A Beard

Bomb-Ass Toddlers

This Is Not My Dentist

Mein Kampf And Zombies

Vote For Me

Thu, 12 May 2011 11:00:00 -0700

Today I am announcing my candidacy for President of the United States. Yes, TODAY. The 12^th day of May in the year 1 A.G. (After Ga’Hoole). Yes, THE UNITED STATES. You know, the one with that one state (Colorado, or maybe I am thinking of West Carolina). I believe we can return America to a country with superpower status and supermodel looks (example: add boobs to the Lincoln Memorial, add boobs to all paper money and coins). I believe that we can improve employment rates for infant firemen/Hamburglers. I believe we can replace all things that aren’t guns with guns so that America is literally made out of guns. I believe in guns. I believe in America.

I believe that, in this day and age, it’s only appropriate that I announce my candidacy over the web while sitting at home in my sexiest lounge outfit (jeans + polio crutches [jolio crutches]). I believe that, if you vote for me, I will increase the White House’s capacity for sharks from 0 to 44 sharks per room.

I believe that sharks are the poor man’s guns.

I believe that I have what it takes to lead this country. Like JFK, I have two legs. Like FDR, those two legs have polio. It was once rumored that James K. Polk had a middle initial, just like one of my gay uncles. MY middle initial is “guns.” I believe that, just like Taft’s boy-child love-slave, I can speak German. I believe that Marilyn Monroe once sang happy birthday to me in a sultry voice, though many witnesses believe that it wasn’t Marilyn Monroe at all but a homeless pregnant woman named Karenn Jungles.

I believe in Karenn Jungles.

I believe that there are naysayers. Maybe I didn’t have the traditional “presidential upbringing” (private school, bathing). However, there’s more than one way to SKIN A CAT. And FYI, when you have polio, it’s apparently CHEATING if you skin the cat using your crutches that you sharpened to a razor point. Good to know, MOM.

I believe in gun-based two-for-one matricide/cat-ricide.

I believe that America is the future. I love this country more than anyone except for maybe Uncle Sam (one of my gay uncles Samantha). For a country named after America Ferrera, America is pretty great. I bleed red, white, and blue, which is 30% due to my patriotism and 70% due to a severe polio-related blood disorder.

I believe in using guns as bullets in a larger gun.

I believe that whoever carved Mt. Rushmore is gay because how gay is it to put four dudes on one mountain. I believe that a man should be able to marry anyone he chooses, given that the person is a gun. I believe that hands are the poor man’s guns.

I believe that some people might not think I’m up for the job. “You’re too young,” they say. “Too Jewish. Too not not Jewish. Too hungry for meat-based breakfast meats. Too polio-teeming. Too redundant. Too Jewish.” To them, I say: shut up, MOM, how did you get my unlisted number stop leaving me these voicemails and hand-written sexts.

I believe that arms are the poor man’s machine guns.

I believe there is an elephant in the room: the woman-as-president issue. I believe there is another elephant in the room: the real-life elephant in the room, wow, how did it get here it’s wearing jorts and a burka (jurka). It’s true – I am a woman, and have been one for my entire life. My floor-length beard is invisible and I often pee sitting down. I believe in a country with women’s right to choose.

Whether or not she pees sitting down.

I believe in the tooth fairy, because who else would touch my gross baby teeth, that’s just gross.

I believe that bees are tiny tigers.

I believe that guns are the poor man’s bigger guns.

I believe in you, America. Believe in me. Vote Megan Amram for whatever that thing I’m running for is I forgot wait.

Oh yeah, I REMEMBERED.

PRESIDENT.

CALL FOR AN OK TIME WITH ME & KATE RILEY

Wed, 04 May 2011 12:52:44 -0700

CALL FOR AN OK TIME WITH ME & KATE RILEY

Celebrity Fragrances

Thu, 14 Apr 2011 15:25:12 -0700

Get ready for a new batch of celebrity perfumes and colognes in 2011!

CELEBRITY: Donald Trump

TITLE: Firéëd (For Her)

SCENT: Musk, burnt orphans, a diamond shaped like a ruby, burnt eyelashes, crème, Obama’s Kenyan birth certificate, some slaves

***

CELEBRITY: Guy Fieri

TITLE: Sweatin’ From My Crannies (For Her)

SCENT: Right moob sweat, upper thigh sweat, pot pies, Aorta sweat, Gogurt (turned), cornea sweat, cargo shorts, a Cheerio found in a stomach roll, bugs

***

CELEBRITY: Moammar Gadhafi

TITLE: Dirt

SCENT: Dirt

***

CELEBRITY: Charlie Sheen

TITLE: Awa;r8tghfjajdf; (For Her)

SCENT: Skin, lube (turned), medicine, fear, a cardboard number “3,” Pizza Bagels, God

***

CELEBRITY: Paula Deen

TITLE: MMMMBUTTERPUTSOMEBUTTERINMYGULLET

SCENT: BUTTER AND SOME SUGAR-FLAVORED BUTTERRRRRRRRR UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

***

CELEBRITY: Bradley Cooper

TITLE: The Eyes Of A Serial Killer (Seriously) (For Her)

SCENT: Lime, tarp, beards, Type O Negative blood, screams, seriously someone please do a background check on Bradley Cooper I think he might have a record of killing some moms

***

CELEBRITY: Glenn Beck

TITLE: I Wish I Could Legally Hurt A Minority In The Mouth (or: Chanel No. 666)

SCENT: America, poopoo, values, stalwart values, doodoo

***

CELEBRITY: Amanda Seyfried

TITLE: My Eyes Look Kinda Like There’s Something Wrong With My Body Right? Even Though I’m Pretty I Guess? (For Her)

SCENT: Maybe it’s like a Thyroid thing?, apples, yeah pretty sure it is my mom’s a doctor and she thinks so!, pears

***

CELEBRITY: Jon-Benet Ramsey

TITLE: Sexy Toddler

SCENT: A forbidden wink from a baby, a sexual blown-kiss at a Gymboree, lipstick on a premie

***

CELEBRITY: Kobe Bryant

TITLE: Faggot (For Him)

SCENT: A wonderful, floral-scented, beautifully-dressed, exotic faggot.