Tag Archives: mtv

22 Random Things I Thought While Enduring The VMAs

Posted on by
Reply

[fb-like]

  • Let’s get going. I need to kill some brain cells, and the liquor stores are all closed.
  • Nicki Minaj is up, and it feels like I’m being shot in the face with a cannon full of monkey shit. Other than that, the show is off to a good start.

  • Will.I.Am apparently decided tonight’s performance would be dedicated to the gimp from Pulp Fiction.
  • Someone just mentioned a “lucky Nicki Minaj fan” winning something. FYI, a “lucky Nicki Minaj fan” is defined as “someone who dies young before the shame soaks in.”
  • Ah, a Victoria’s Secret commercial. I’m so glad Vickie’s models love their bodies. Makes me feel like I’m not so alone.

  • Ke$ha’s trash bag dress cuts to the chase. I respect that. You might even say it makes me Glad. (Don’t forget to tip your waiter, ladies and gents. Or trip him… I’m pretty sure that fucker’s been spitting in my food.)
  • There seems to be an unintended synergy in tonight’s commercials. For example, someone needs to feed a Taco Bell flatbread sandwich to that H&M model they keep showing me.
  • I’m not saying Chelsea Handler should spontaneously burst into flames on stage. But I do have some marshmallows and a hankering for s’mores…

  • Okay now I get it. GaGa is a faun from Pan’s Labyrinth. Clears a lotta shit up, really.
  • As a host, Handler makes me wax nostalgic for the comedy stylings of Jimmy Fallon. And for that matter, the time I went deaf from ear wax buildup.
  • Kim Kardashian is referred to as “a style icon”. Newsflash: an ass is not a fashion statement. And when it comes to getting fabric to stretch around that majestic butt, the discipline at work is less “fashion” than “super-elastic polymer science”.
  • Justin Bieber is taking the stage. Wow, I’ve never seen a castrato in sunglasses jog around my TV before.
  • Good god, this choreography makes it look like Bieber is gonna get gang banged by his dancers. He’s literally being groped by a bunch of sweaty dudes. They’d better watch out back in the dressing room; $10 says Chris Hansen is waiting.

  • Justin tries playing the drums, and inadvertently sends one of his drumsticks flying across the stage. I suspect this will not be the last time in his life that Bieber will mishandle a stick.
  • Watching him is kind of life affirming, though. This kid is living proof that an autonomous vagina CAN live without being connected to an actual woman.
  • Florence + The Machine take the stage and kick ass. Finally, something that doesn’t make my taint burn.

  • I’m pretty sure that if the CDC could get a sample of that Jersey Shore/Chelsea Handler hot tub water, we’d have a fair shot at developing a vaccine for every venereal disease that ever existed.
  • Linkin Park is performing, and in complete opposition to everything I know about time and space, I find that 2002 has barfed all over my television.
  • Cher is… well, uh… she’s got… um… she sure is good at reading from a TelePrompTer.
  • Kanye’s ego is a magical thing, like an iPad, a unicorn, or the medication that keeps Paris Hilton’s vagina from falling off.
  • Ah, so that’s where I hid the remote!

[fb-like]

Spencer Pratt Is America’s Last Line of Cyber Defense

Posted on by
Reply

Folks, we are all fucking doomed.

In the last few months I have discovered a new passion and new purpose to my life. With this in mind, I have decided to take a break from my obligations to MTV’s The Hills and discontinue filming any more episodes for this current season.

Upon learning of President Obama’s declaration that the “cyber threat is one of the most serious economic and national security challenges we face as a nation,” I have decided to refocus my energy and devote my full resources to helping America face this and other unprecedented challenges.

My new mission is this: To do my part in maintaining the technological superiority of the U.S. military and prevent emerging technologies from threatening our nation’s security.

–Spencer to People.com

I just–! There’s so much–! Should… have sent… a poet…

  • “I have discovered” that my wife has gone batshit insane.
  • With this move, Spencer has blazed a dramatic and vital trail. Next up: the cast of Big Bang Theory goes to work for the Department of Defense!
  • Please note that Spencer’s “full resources” amount to a half-carton of smokes and a Ziploc of Heidi’s pubes that he was saving for a rainy day.
  • Do yourself a favor and check out the American Defense Enterprises’ blog. Yes, these folks are just one Pratt away from saving the world.

FYI, I did a little digging for you guys, and managed to unearth Spencer’s to-do list for bolstering America’s tech infrastructure:

  1. Find out what a “Google” is. (Sounds Muslim… check that out.)
  2. Take the Windows and Mac guys out to lunch and see if we can’t work things out.
  3. Also, get Windows guy laid, he could totally use it.
  4. Tila Tequila de-friended me on Myspace. Bitch gonna pay.
  5. Write computer virus that crawls the web, deleting any instance of the word “douche” in proximity to my name. With 100% of machines infected, should only take 7.2 years for deletions to finish.
  6. Send phishing email to Osama bin Laden, get his Facebook password.
  7. While I’m thinking of Facebook… assassinate the next person who asks me to help tend their Farmville crops. Fuck your collectivist farm, commie!
  8. Start an online petition to make Twitter change its name to something less gay.
  9. Kidnap Al Gore, force him to turn over the keycodes that control the climate control computers that he had built under the Smokey Mountains. (Alternate idea: hold him hostage, and tell the Internet I’ll kill its daddy if it doesn’t give me a billion dollars.)
  10. Solve the problems in the Middle East by convincing Israelis and Palestinians to move the Gaza Strip into World of Warcraft and unite against the Horde.

I feel so much safer now.

It All Adds Up: Heidi Montag Replaces Spencer

Posted on by
Reply

Heidi 1.0: Looked natural and really rather cute. I guess if you wanted to pick her apart, you could have found superficial flaws. Of course, if you picked her apart these days, all you'd find is hopelessness and some doctor's lost surgical glove.

So after five years, a couple television shows, a record number of staged, “candid” paparazzi photos, and enough silicone to caulk half the windows in the Chrysler Building, Spencer Pratt is out as Heidi Montag’s manager. He gets to keep the “husband” job title for now, but what’s that get him? Outside of her (presumably) OEM vagina, Heidi is pretty much a stitched-together batch of “Quality Recertified” after-market parts that could fall off if you blink too quickly in her vicinity.

Heidi 2.0: Not quite as pretty as the original, but waaaaaaaay sluttier. Which is what we in the business call "a fair trade". (FYI: what I call "we in the business" amounts to me, my hand, and a microwaved bottle of Jurgens.)

But the ousting of America’s Favorite Douchetard isn’t the real story here. (Although that may change once someone scores photos of him in line at the unemployment office.) No, the intriguing bit is the identity of Spencer’s replacement: “third generation healer and intuitive”, Aiden Chase. Oh, hells yeah! Heidi is now being managed by a psychic! Let the fun begin!

Heidi 3.0: Now looking strikingly like a Madame Tussauds version of Shannon Tweed circa 1984, Montag is a Frankensteinian monument to obsessive self-loathing and the triumph of stupidity over technology. I just knew she was good for something!

But don’t worry, any random and rather sad fans of Heidi Montag who happen to be reading this for some masochistic reason… this Chase dude (whose name I am sure is totally not made up) is going to be a great influence on your girl! Why, just look at the entirely level-headed and insightful stuff he has to say about himself:

Aiden Chase: Starmaker

I am a channel for healing energy. Together we connect to the light healing force of love. Although this sounds mysterious or religious, it is neither. It is a very straightforward process that involves the cleansing, rebalancing, and recalibrating of your energy field.

…

Joining and participating with us on every healing are the angelic forces of light and love, healing and protection; ancient Native American spirit healers; your ancestors and passed-on family who choose to help guide us in your healing.

Hm. First of all, Aiden m’boy… no, this sounds neither mysterious nor religious. It sounds more like something you read in the How To Pillage The Checking Accounts of Wealthy Morons Handbook, Hollywood Revised Edition.

Second, which of my fucking ancestors won’t choose to help in healing?! I want names! Those corpsefied shitheels better pitch in PDQ, ’cause I’ve got a full bladder and a map to their graves! This includes you, Great Aunt Marie… that plate of cookies you gave me in 1974 don’t mean shit when it’s time for you to team up with a psychic to magically cure my untreatable cock cancer!

I also like this bit:

All religious beliefs are welcomed and acknowledged. All faiths are truly about love and love is healing.

…which proves what I’ve always known in my heart: Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing should be played during all church services. It’d certainly go a long way toward getting me to attend.

Oh, and check out the scary-eyed grin on this guy:

He looks like Judge Reinhold in Fast Times At Ridgemont High. I dunno about you, but that’s a face I can trust! And given that he charges upwards of $3,000/month for a couple visits and a handful of telephone consultations, giving him a percentage of total earnings probably means he’ll vajazzle Heidi with Loving Angel Crystals and transfer the power of his Inner Soul Star to them via the repeated daily application of his 1/64th Ancient Native American tongue. What a bargain!

Anyhoo… my money says it was this bright bulb who convinced her to go through with her latest batch of wholly pointless, hotness-defacing surgeries. Say what you will about Pratt, but he knows that all he really needed to keep his meal-ticket client relevant was the original boob job… anything more is just unnecessary downtime that could be better used earning daddy some dollas.

Heidi 4.0: C'mon... you know it's gonna happen.

In closing, if I haven’t mentioned it lately: thank you, LA, for providing me my daily recommended allowance of Absolute Fucking Insanity.

Jersey Shore: Snooki Ascendant

Posted on by
Reply

Nicole "Snooki" Pollizzi, seen here serving as the petite meat in an indigestible Douche Sandwich.

America is an amazing place, for many reasons. Primarily for being the home of the Luther Burger, yeah, but we’re cool for other stuff as well. For example, look at the awesome formulae we have developed for becoming famous.

  • Give your kid a stupid name guaranteed to get his ass kicked on the playground, and then pretend to lose him in a tragic balloon accident. It’s a stone cold fact that those words don’t even make sense crammed together like that, and yet… FAMOUS!
  • Give all your kids stupid names guaranteed to get their asses kicked on the playground, learn how to wink, and prove yourself incapable of answering simple questions such as “what do you read?”… FAMOUS!
  • Give yourself a stupid nickname guaranteed to get you punched in the face at a club, hang around with guys who develop tanning bed melanoma as a hobby, and next stop… FAMOUS!

Yes indeed… everyone’s favorite miniature guidette is yet another in a long line of innovators who roam the endless American famescape. And we must treasure her for that. Well, okay, maybe not for that… but for videos like this, shot long before Jersey Shore? Definitely.

I mean, right there, all by itself… that deserves popular acclaim. (I know my wang gave her a standing ovation.) Yeah, some haters will rush to point out that this is an example of Snooki from the Land of Many-Pounds-Ago, but to them I say: “BAH!” As long as she’s still that flexible and slutty, she could swallow an entire vat of Krispy Kreme glaze and I’d go ahead and hit it. In fact, a willingness to swallow vast quantities of glaze might just make her the perfect woman.

If (like me) you’re wondering what exactly caught MTV’s eye and made them enshrine darling Nikky here as an Italian-American institution, it’s worth watching the following video. Shot in 2008, it pretty much serves as a reality TV resume.

And lest you think that she’s just about the part-ay and not matters of intellectual significance, check out this bit of sciency goodness, wherein Dr. Snooki, PhD demonstrates the effect of centrifugal force on enormous jugs:

I love you, Snooki. In a bitter, twisted, verbally abusive way, mind you… but I figure you’re up for it, baby.

Okay, Beyoncé… You’re Forgiven

Posted on by
Reply

All these years you’ve been avoiding me, ignoring my phone calls, marrying rich, scary black men without even a thought to how I might feel about it… it’s been tough. I’ve kept quiet and soldiered on through the countless sleepless nights and humiliations, all for the sake of the beautiful dream of us.

The 2009 MTV Video Music Awards - Press Room

PICTURED: Beyoncé Knowles-Z holding her metallic spaceman

I mean, when you started singing songs about me? That was low. Single Ladies? Like “put a ring on it” isn’t a clear reference to that time I showed up in your backyard wearing nothing but a leather thong and a cock ring. You didn’t even come to the door! Yeah, “I wasn’t home” is always your excuse, isn’t it? Fucking Christ, it’s not like I haven’t sent you macramé puzzle pieces made from my pubic hair that –once assembled– made it bloody obvious that I would be there that day! Feh! And don’t get me started on knowing what it’s like to miss you, ’cause God knows how many times I’ve wasted perfectly good, GHB-coated darts on your housekeeper, just trying to get my aim right with the blowgun.

(Sorry, Rosalita.)

But I’m a big boy, and I’m prepared to let the past be past. Because you have shown me that there really is something inside you other than the sexomagnetic cyber-uterus that the future-aliens implanted in you specifically to draw us together so that we might breed a race of superbeings charged with protecting this galaxy from the encroachment of otherdimensional plasma beetles. And that something, I’ve found, is a heart.

The 2009 MTV Video Music Awards

PICTURED: Kanye West, holding his robo-alien love doll

Last night, when the entirely sane and reasonable Kanye West leapt on stage at the MTV VMAs to defend the honor of that little video you made featuring the hand-crafted Gauntlet of Infinite Stabbiness that I sent you in the mail back in 2005 (I’m not bitter), and in the process plunged country singing teen (and part-time nightmare of Lilliputians) Taylor Swift into a bottomless well of backstage tears… well, you could have just let it go.

But you didn’t.

So, all is forgiven. Water under the bridge. I’ll even go so far as to rescind the fatwa I issued concerning Jay-Z a few years ago. May you both live in peace. Until the beetles get here, anyway.

Kristin Cavallari Is Wise Beyond Measure

Posted on by
Reply

The second hottest girl from Laguna Beach (sorry, Kristin, but Jessica had the innocent face/sinful body combo working for her) is not only taking over The Hills this season… she’s also branching out into free advice.

Okay, I take everything back. Fuck Jessica. Simply having the idea of flashing sphincter is enough to push Kristin over the top. Hell, it may just put her in the running for Greatest Person In The World.

kristin cavallari white bikini

I mean, sure, that Mother Teresa chick was working with lepers and everything in Calcutta, but c’mon… we’re talking butthole! If every little girl grew up to be just like MT, all we would have is half a planet of  sharing, compassionate, and selflessly dedicated women with the sex drive of water chestnuts.  If they all grew up to be like Kristin, hey, check it:

  1. The thong industry would replace the oil business as the most lucrative and vital part of the economy. (The Lycra shortage of 2031 will be a major bitch, though.)
  2. Patriarchy? Kiss it good-bye. Kristinettes would get what they want from men every time, and if they didn’t, oh, they would be so dunzo!
  3. Formerly inane conversations would instantly become interesting, particularly when viewed from across the street with a long lens.
  4. Speaking of that… following hot chicks around with cameras and lingering lovingly over their every move would stop being creepy and become a viable, mainstream lifestyle.
  5. Our new national anthem? More Bounce In California.
  6. Lauren Conrad would be forced to work as a Walmart greeter. In hell. Or Mexico, whichever is worse.
  7. National past-time? Out: baseball. In: marathon mani-pedis. (Loss of work for Dominicans more than compensated for by the boom in Korean employment.)
  8. All personal squabbles would be settled by heartfelt-yet-monosyllabic discussions in front of ocean backdrops or at night overlooking Los Angeles. (People in landlocked areas simply no longer allowed to argue.)
  9. Absolutely no one would appear to do any work at all, and yet somehow things would still seem to get done.
  10. We would have an end to racism due to the L’Oreal Act, which would mandate dye jobs and spray tans for everyone.

Let it happen, people. Take Saint Kristin of Orange County into your hearts. Love her. What’s the worst that could happen?

Kristin Cavalleri wall

UPDATE: Says here that the worst is “Spencer Pratt appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, issues ruling confirming Douche Rights.” Okay then… nevermind.

Will Arnett Loves Abortions, Impregnating Mouths

Posted on by
Reply
Stars on the red carpet at the 34th Annual Gracie Awards Gala in NYC

This man looks harmless, does he not? Standing there with his wife Amy Poehler, smiling placidly for the camera… what a charming fellow!

Well, think again, stupid! Will Arnett is the single most deviant sex fiend you will ever encounter, especially if you’re wearing a cardboard mask of a random celebrity. See below for the awful, awful truth.