Get Motivated (you worthless shit)!

It's time to get the hell up and do something with yourself! And if you're in LA this October 31st, you're in luck because the world's premiere motivational seminar is going to be right here at the Staples Center (though it seems to me they're fighting an uphill battle to even get people motivated enough to leave they're house on Halloween rather than sitting at home in their underwear eating candy they "bought for the kids" that never come to their apartment building). Some of the world's most highly regarded speakers will be on hand to teach you the secrets to their success. And because I want to see you make something of yourself, I'm offering a little preview of what you can expect from a few of the big name speakers...

Rudy Guiliani, former Mayor of New York City
Mr. Giuliani promises to wow the audience with his insights on how to obtain one of the world's most prominent political positions in spite of having been born with a freak pumpkin-head. He'll also divulge, in great detail, the benefits of blowing off a chance at the White House in order to make the most of your Yankees season tickets and keep your schedule open for ironic cameos on Saturday Night Live.

Lou Holtz, Hall of Fame football coach
This former Notre Dame gipper is known as one of the greatest in history at delivering inspirational speeches to his players. Now, thanks to this seminar, you will get to experience it first-hand. Coach Holtz will prove to you that not even an Eek the Cat-like speech impediment can come between you and your future success (Note: panchos will be handed out to those in the first 5 rows, also known as the saliva splash zone).

Bill Cosby, legendary actor/comedian
The first half of your lecture from "the Cos" will reveal to you all the secrets of how to become one of the world's biggest comics, a beloved sitcom dad, and a world-renowned pudding peddler. While part 2 of his speech will focus on how to then transition into a crotchety old fuck who calls other comics to tell them they shouldn't swear and who may or may not have a serious history of sexual abuse.

John Cena: Ambassador to the world

Imagine you are in the crowd at the WWE 2011 Extreme Rules event. You are having a grand old time, throwing back beers and watching grown men wrestle in unitards (they still wear these, right?). The guy next to you has three teeth and his wife is holding a sign that says "Triple H can give me the Pedigree any time!" Jerry Lawler's weird chest hair is within mere feet of you. THIS, is America.
But just when you thought things had gotten as red, white and blue as they could, WWE Champ John Cena stands on the announcers table and drops this bombshell:

John Cena Announces Osama Bin Laden's Death To Crowd - Watch more Sports

 Are you friggin' kidding me? Did the guy from such cinematic masterpieces as 12 Rounds and The Marine just give us the breaking news we would have otherwise gotten from George Stephanopoulos? Did we just learn of a Navy SEAL incursion that brought to an end the reign of the most evil man of our time from this dude? Wait, did John Cena kill Osama Bin Laden?!

The best part of this video though is that the honorable Mr. Cena refers to Bin Laden's death as being "compromised to a permanent end." Then shortly after, if you listen closely, you can hear a confused audience member ask aloud "But is he dead?"

Now THAT's America.

Spider-Man: Turn On the Morphine Drip

The actor who tumbled thirty-five feet into the orchestra pit during a preview show of the perpetual Broadway shitstorm that has been "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark" has vowed to return to the production when it resumes in June (no word yet as to the return of the bassoon player whose head he landed on).

Note to self: Webs not nearly as reliable as Bono said they'd be.

The brave thespian in question, Christopher Tierney, refuses to let a few broken ribs, a fractured shoulder blade, three broken vertebrae or a measly little fractured skull stop him from portraying the live-action web-slinger in the U2 helmed play. And I have to admit, that's pretty admirable. But you have to wonder what will happen when he returns to the perch from which he plummeted. Assuming that the actual safety issues have been resolved, I'd say there's still a 90% chance that the residual memory of faceplanting into the woodwinds section will at the very least cause the 31 year-old stuntman to wet himself whilst swinging wildly over the audience (bring your ponchos!).
In any case, here's to hoping Christopher's return to the show is a safe one, but that the show itself remains an unstoppable disaster. Why? Because fuck U2, that's why.


P.S. "Turn Off the Dark" doesn't make any god damn sense. Hey Bono, if you want to turn off the dark maybe try not wearing sunglasses 24 hours a day... Dick.

What did NY do to deserve this?!

We have A LOT of totally important things to say.

In keeping with my "reality television fuels a blinding anger inside me that cannot be quelled" theme (note my past postings on the Jersey Shore), I thought I'd address the horrible fate that has befallen the residents of New York City: the arrival of the Kardashians.
I know I'm a couple of months late but I have only recently become aware of the E! Network's latest broadcast plague, Kourtney and Kim Take New York. And thanks to inspiration from the twitter post of a friend (see below), I've decided to dedicate today's post entirely to coming up with alternate titles for this televised hate-crime on the senses:

- Handjobs & the City (compliments of Erin LaRosa)
- Kourtney and Kim kan't read but they'll buy the shit out of some shoes
- Native American Karma (this is for white people buying Manhattan for 3 pogs and a snap bracelet)
- Empire State of mind-numbing reality horse shit that will surely be the end of us all
- Start spreading the news and crabs
- The City that never sleeps with Ray J and tapes it, at least not again...
- What? Like 9/11 wasn't bad enough?

Leave some of your own suggestions in the comment section!

I'm really not an angry person...

Nothing says Good Morning America like a chair through a window.
The recovery for the shattered image of R&B singer Chris Brown hit a bit of a snag this morning when an interview took a turn for the worse. And by a bit of a snag, I mean he went batshit nuts at Good Morning America after being asked a series of questions about his little "dust-up" with Rihanna back in 2009. Obviously, the best way to show that you are past that dark point in your life is to quietly dismiss questions about it, then promptly throw a chair through your dressing room window and exit the building a shirtless madman.

What? I think that interview went well.

I imagine Brown's handlers are just thrilled that he decided to go all "Chris Brown" on the exact day of his album's release too (maybe wait till next week to publicly lose your shit?). All I know is interviewer Robin Roberts should thank her lucky stars this segment was done on national television and not in a car on the way to the Grammys, otherwise things could've gone down very differently for her.
In any case, here's some advice Chris, if you're that sick and tired of being badgered about an incident that happened two years ago... too bad asshole. Maybe you should've thought of that before you made a girl look like she went 12 rounds with Apollo Creed.
It's not gonna go away buddy. Just ask Ike Turner. He's been dead for four years and yet he still isn't exactly remembered for his two Independent Music Awards. Boo-hoo. Deal with it you over-entitled, self-indulged, never-gonna-be-Usher-because-Usher-never-knuckled-up-a-lady's-face scumbag.

Celebrity Apprentice Premonitions

After watching the premier episode of Celebrity Apprentice last night I decided to save you all a lot of time by just going ahead and predicting exactly how the season will play out.
You're welcome:

"Hey Survivor guy's ball bag... You're Fired!"

- Latoya Jackson will make at least one eerie, cryptic reference to her recently deceased brother per episode, only to reveal in the final episode that she IS Michael Jackson.

- At some point, and there's nothing you can do to stop it, you will see Richard Hatch's balls.

- Jose Canseco will be sent home for stealing the steroids Lisa Rinna injects into her face twice hourly to keep it in tact.

- Mark McGrath will flip his blonde-frosted lid when Meatloaf refers to him as "Sugar Gay."

- Lil' Jon will arbitrarily answer such an alarming amount of questions with "YEEEAAAAH!" it will prompt testing that eventually proves he is mentally retarded.

- Gary Busey will be unabashedly awesome the entire time.

- Star Jones will be unabashedly awful the entire time.

This is snow way to treat a friend...

Being originally from New York, my Facebook is naturally filled with friends and family from back home, and evidently they are getting a little sick of the constant snowdumps Old Man Winter has unloaded on them this year.  As I logged on early this morning, I noticed roughly 93.56% of my newsfeed was filled with angry snow haters airing their grievances with Mother Nature (can you believe she's still not on Facebook?), and to be honest, it made me feel a little homesick.
So, in hopes of rekindling my connection with the great state of New York, and really just trying not to be the only person on Facebook who wasn't bitching about winter (let's face it, I'm a blind conformist), I put up a funny little message. Did I assume people would chuckle at the irony of my status being that I'm in California? Sure. But did I have even an inkling of the vicious digital attack that was about to be unleashed upon me? No sir, no I did not...

I must say people, winter (and I assume old age), has turned you bitter and ugly. Is snow really that bad? Soft, white flakes floating down to earth, covering all the surface with a peaceful, pillowy blanket of fluff... wahhh, wahh, wahh.

You think life in California is so easy? I have tough days out here too. Why just this morning, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of a hummingbird feeding on the vibrant flowers of a sprawling, dewy garden. It was the most astonishingly tranquil sight I ever laid eyes on, and I wept openly for the next ten minutes.

You try starting your day with that kind of emotional awakening. Yeah, that's what I thought... go finish shoveling your driveways.

Willow Smith must be stopped... SERIOUSLY.

Some of you might recall back in October when I posted an article begging renaissance man Will Smith to stop pushing his 9 year old daughter on an unsuspecting and confused public that is helpless to stop her. Shockingly, it appears my message never reached him, for the child-pimpery continues unabated.

Evidently, Willow Smith will now be starring in a movie reboot of the hit Broadway musical Annie. The brainchild of Big Willy and Jay-Z (By the way, isn't it safe to say that any street cred you built up slinging rock in Brooklyn is officially lost when you co-head a production of Annie?), the new Annie promises to be a more modern, more hip and without a doubt a more thoroughly unnecessary version than any of its predecessors (and that's saying a lot, considering I have never exactly thought of any production of Annie as "necessary").
Will... I would ask again that you stop shoving your children down the world's collective throat, but I know that isn't going to happen. I would even request that you don't contribute to the recent Hollywood trend of just remaking someone else's idea since you have no original ones of your own, but it's obviously too late for that. So in the end, I guess all I'll ask, nay, beg of you, is that you don't let Willow sport the traditional Annie hair. With those ears and that do, she'll just be mistaken for Blake Griffin.

Giving thanks for insanity and swords

On this, the eve of the Thanksgiving holiday, I feel I truly need to stop and smell the roses.  Because when I think about it there is just so much to be thankful for, possibly nothing more so than a sword-wielding celebrity.  Yeah, don't backtrack, you read that right.
Evidently, an actor from the ABC show Ugly Betty decided to go all Kill Bill on his mommadukes and has now officially been charged in her death.  In fact, the details are hazy but there are rumors swirling that he may or may not have actually lopped her head off. So, yeah don't be surprised if from now on Ugly Betty is not only known for launching the career of America Ferrera, but also for "that guy who sword-murdered his mom."  On a real level it's a sad and tragic event, but on a celebrity-story level, this easily takes the cake for most insane of the year (sorry David Carradine's "slightly odd" demise).
I guess if there is anything positive to take from this whole ordeal it's that it's refreshing to see the sword making a comeback.  Guns are just so... easy.
Oh, and also, upon researching Ugly Betty for this post I learned on IMDB that the show's title in Spanish translates to: I am Betty, the Ugly Girl.  So... that's kinda awesome too.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Quidditch anyone?

Congratulations bird watchers, your spot atop the sad hobbies pyramid has officially been usurped.  And the new champs won't likely be giving up their spot any time soon; check out the Quidditch World Cup.
Yeah, apparently a group of mega-virgins had a meeting of the minds and decided to bring the flying broomstick sport of Harry Potter lore into their less than satisfying reality.  And I say why not?  It's not like the excitement or respectability of the game could be diminished by your inability to actually fly, or the fact that you're running around a field with a fucking broomstick between your legs.
I don't even know where to start with this.  This may be the saddest thing I've ever seen (and that includes All Dogs Go To Heaven).  These real life "athletes" make Ultimate Frisbee players look like VanDamme in Bloodsport.  The premise is that two teams take a volleyball along with all of their combined social awkwardness out onto the playing field and try to put the ball through a hoop, all while remaining crotch-jockeyed to their broomsticks, obviously (it's sort of like basketball for the mentally ill).  In addition, someone called a snitch apparently just runs around aimlessly the entire time?  I honestly have no idea. Maybe he escaped from the Hogwarts short-bus and you get bonus points for wrangling him up.  Seems cruel though.
In any case, now that the sport has come to light thanks to internet videos galore, these "athletes" are having some wonderful back and forths with Quidditch detractors in comment threads.  One player even defended the "sport" by pointing out that he once broke his leg during a Quidditch "match."  Yeah... might wanna keep that to yourself buddy.  I'd say you broke it figure skating, you'll get more ladies that way. 
I guess all I really want out of this is to make my opinion as clear as I can, so ummm... THIS IS NOT A SPORT!  In fact, the only thing that's less of a sport than this would be if a bunch of furry Frodo fanatics got together and formed an intramural "One-True-Ringtoss" league. 
So for the love of God and all that is good with the world of sports, please stop.

NYC's Secret Subway

So apparently New York City has been hiding from us the one and only pleasant stop amongst its expansive, multi-borough subway system.  It's hard to even venture a guess as to why, but maybe they felt it didn't fit with the motif of the other stops. After all, without a sufficient amount of rat babies or hobo urine I guess it might be hard to even consider this a legitimate NYC subway station.
Recently though, despite its complete lack of shirtless dance crews or tourist knifings, the station was opened to the public for the first time in decades, marking the first positive publicity the New York City subway system has enjoyed in... ever.
There is one negative however, as the reopening of this historic stop has displaced the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from their longtime lair.  The crime fighting, pubescent reptiles are reportedly residing in the 9th avenue men's shelter adjacent to the Port Authority, transparently disguised in trench coats and fedoras.