Dear Pam Just stop with the politicizing, stop the bad TV sitcom acting, stop the divorcing and remarrying of Tommy Lee and do the one thing you were put on this planet to do:

Show us your tits.

Seriously.

Less talking. More tit showing.
Less PETA supporting. More underwire supporting.
Less "acting." More acting like a chick with huge tits.

More tits. More often. More tits.

Thank tits. I mean tits. I mean you. I mean thank you.

For your tits.

Tits.
  ¶ 10:10 AM 8 comments

  Careening Toward The Apocalypse. A freezerful at a time. Hungry? I'm not.

Man tells police dead mother kept in freezer for years   ¶ 3:59 PM 0 comments

  Know how you get a witch pregnant? You fuck her.  ¶ 3:56 PM 1 comments

  Tug List for April, 2005 Noted without commentary:

Ben Folds
Mickey Rourke
"Stash" by Phish (from "A Live One")
"The Office" American Version
Nashville Star
Crest Whitestrips
gorillamask.net
gawker.com
defamer.com
Hispanic Marketing
Star Wars Episode III
Playstation Portable
Shure EC3 Noise-cancelling headphones
The New Mustang
Bowling
MLS Season 10
Kickball for adults
otisproductions.com/blog
The Solar System
American History  ¶ 2:05 PM 4 comments

  Blink One-Eighty-who? Are you fucking kidding me?

Seriously.

I was flipping through the channels and landed on a new familial reality show on MTV.

Ozzy and the Hooligans? No.
The Continuing Adventures of Dumb-Ass and Dumber-Ass?
(Read: Newlyweds: The Jessica & Nick Simpson Show)? No.
Me sitting around in my underwear wearing a bowler hat and smoking huge, Fidel Castroesque heaters? No.

The stupid drummer from Blink-182 (according to the promos, his name is Travis Barker -- hey, don't ask me) has his own show that follows him and his trophy wife as they plan their wedding.

P.S. Not really that much of a trophy. To be perfectly honest, judging by the fact that she appears to have two kids by two different dads (one of them Travis) and -- as I said -- is currently planning her wedding with him, she appears to be bit of a slut-whore.

Now, I ask you this without a bit of irony: Is not Armageddon surely upon us.

Hold it right here. I am about to vomit on my pants and then wring out the puke into any one of my face-holes.

Why? Guess what followed this monstrossi-fucking-ty? "Trippin'" a.k.a. The Cameron Diaz travel show.

Apparently, Cam and her friends travel around (the world, I reckon) with a camera crew and not nearly enough Percoset™ for me to watch and realize why I have not killed myself yet.

Suddenly, my brother-in-law switches over to E! Entertainment Television. Guess what's on? Gastineau Girls!

Who? The ex-wife of former NY Jet Mark Gastineau and his spoiled brat of a daughter?

Please God, kill me now or put me into some sort of vegetative state I don't have nearly enough legal paperwork for.  ¶ 9:27 PM 3 comments