Bitch Slaps and Bacon
Monday, April 23rd, 2007
No, you may NOT have a Mercedes for your 16th birthday. Bitch.
Can we get to work on a line drawing version of this for a shirt? Art department, make it so!Just a couple of things that were on my mind before I went to bed.
#1, and this one is important, I am an idiot. No seriously, look it up. I put TV on the Radio’s “Wolf Like Me” on the iMix as “Playhouses.” Apparently I’ve had this wrong from the beginning. But a lot of people did because I still see it misnamed on my music downloading program of choice. This is what one gets when they are a music pirate. Yarrr… Don’t judge me. Can’t figure out how to fix the mix on iTunes, so remember I said that, okay? Because “Playhouses” is not nearly as cool as “Wolf Like Me,” for realz. And you should definitely get that iMix. I don’t get paid for it or anything, I’m just lazy and don’t feel like making all of you cd’s anymore. The shipping would be a bitch.
#2. That show My Super Sweet 16, a favorite on Buena Vista Ave. in Baltimore, makes me want to go on a ho-slapping bender. I had it on the television just long enough to see this dumb cracker girl fly to Atlanta to get Young Joc (sp?) to play her party. Yeah, he’d do it, for $85k. “We can do that,” she says. Shit like that makes my butthole pucker.
#3. I made it to Bacon Nirvana tonight. Let’s make a long story short. I found this weird (and great) gourmet mag I’ve never heard of before, and haven’t seen since a couple of months ago, as if it were a fantasy at the end of the rainbow with Shay Laren riding unicorns naked. Sorry, got lost for a sec. In it, they did a story on some dude that made bacon in the hills of Tennessee. So I got on the site and the first thing I see is “Due to them booji motherfuckers that made that there article on us, ya’lls gon’ have to wait up to 5 weeks for my bacon of the gods. So all you snotty douchebags in your import cars can suck it.” (paraphrase) And I ordered, and waited, and today the bacon stork dropped it off on my doorstep. Holy mother of God, that is the shit right there. I cooked it up in a pan, I grilled it, I rolled around in the bacon grease, I got a bacon boner. If you like bacon, get on this shit. It’s kinda expensive when you factor in shipping, but Mr. Benton may have turned me off shwag bacon for the rest of my life. Damn you, you magnificent bastard. If there’s any left the next time you come to my house I will cook you some at any time of the day or night, and we can have a bacon orgy together (with or without the bacon).
Reckon that’s about it. Check back in the next couple of days for a fun feature on an awful(ly great) movie that you can Netflix just as soon as I send it back.
At last, it is here, sequenced and ready to rock. Just for you. The 
In other news, if you watch American Idol (and I don’t, I swear), they had one of those totally gay commercials where the whole cast is singing. They did “Float On” by Modest Mouse. Seriously… I think I just threw up in my mouth.