Monday's Versus

We've been seeing a lot of lame t-shirts lately. Luckily, we see them on the web and not on people (in which case, we'd be punchasizing a lot more faces). Unless you're blind (I'm sorry to hear you are blind, btw) you've probably seen the shirts of threadless.com et all. One of our favorites is noisebot.com. Clever t-shirts are okay once in a while, but wearing them everyday can get a little too, how do you say, Bruce Villanche. Steer clear of those pseudo-slutty Abercrombie ones that say "your shirt would look great on my floor" or "single and ready to mingle" or the encouragable "my boyfriend is out of town". Anyways, Noisebot has some weird fascination with Vince Vaughn movies, and there are far too many shirts with Wedding Crashers, Old School, and Anchorman referrences. Personally, we would piss our pants to get our grubby hands on either a 'car ramrod' (a nod to the hilarious Super Troopers) or the very clever Ghostbusters vs. Pac-Man.
Let's do this! Welcome to the VINCE VAUGHN ANCHORMAN SHIRT vs. VINCE VAUGHN OLD SCHOOL SHIRT battle. Today's guest judge is the man himself, Vince Vaughn's bloated mugshot. Thanks for joining us, Vince.

The 'Anchorman' "Dorothy Mantooth is a Saint" shirt (aka DMIAS):
The 'Old School' "Speaker City" shirt (aka SC):
1. "In-ness" of in-joke
DMIAS: Quite in. Vaughn's character, Wes Mantooth, is not a primary character in Anchorman. He just shows up and scowls. In one scene, someone makes a joke about Wes Mantooth's mother (I think it was Brick). Vaughn retorts "DOROTHY MANTOOTH IS A SAINT!" It's pretty funny, but its also a joke that gets shadowed by other, more clever lines like Paul Rudd's "It's called Sex Panther. 60% of the time, it works every time".
SC: Not in at all. Speaker City is mentioned every time there is a party, a scene with sound, a scene with Vaughn talking about work, a scene outside of the frat house. Speaker City is to Old School what SmartTech is to The 40-Year-Old Virgin; a fake Best Buy.

2. Quality of Design
DMIAS: Lame. So lame. We get it, she's a saint. Did we really need the cross hanging off 'saint'?
SC: Quite nice. It could pass for a real business. Now if only my red Lobster uniform looked so cool.

3. Ratio of Vince Vaughn coolness to movie coolness
DMIAS: High. Since Vaughn usually steals scenes like my dirtbag neighbors steals bikes, it was nice to see him get a total screen time of 15 minutes.
SC: Low. Vaughn is not the funniest part of Old School. Andy Dick teaching the blowjob class is. And then Vaughn followed up Old School with Wedding Crashers, which made him seem like a turd (except when he's playing football at the lake house and he stomps his feet and goes "Red Seven, Red Seven, Red Sev-ehhnn!!" and Owen Wilson goes "I don't know what that means!"

4. Who you are going to attract: Cool Girls or Slutty Girls
DMIAS: Cool Girls. Anchorman is a bit of an underrated movie, so a cool girl will get the Dorothy Mantooth referrence, whereas a Slutty Girl will only recognize lame, over-quoted lines from Anchorman like "I'm kind of a big deal" or "I Love Lamp".
SC: Neither. Cool Girls will see you for what you are, a dumb frat. Slutty Girls will confuse your shirt with Radio Shack and think you work a minimum-wage mall job.

5. Colour
DMIAS: Green is a little too St.Patrick's Day. We would choose this shirt in a brown or tan.
SC: The red is hot. Any other colour would defeat the purpose of the Speaker City aesthetic. It would be like getting a vintage Rolling Stones shirt with a purple mouth. So, have fun with that, Prince.

Verdict (courtesy of Vince Vaughn's Bloated Mugshot)
"I, Vince Vaughn's Bloated Mugshot, in association with the Los Angeles County Parole Dept, declare that the Dorothy Mantooth is a Saint shirt is the winner. I would totally wear that shirt. And by "wear", I mean drink. And by "shirt", I mean a bottle of Jack Daniels. And by "that", I mean drive drunk to Vegas and hook-up with 3 strippers.



Here's this weeks banes of our existence:

I am throwing the big F-You to the person who has photoshopped a peen on Harry Potter. Let me explain. I'm on DListed (not to take traffic away from us, but they are darlings) to keep myself updated on the hotness that is Daniel Radcliffe in Equus. Its like every day, there is a new picture of him with one less article of clothing. Its a goddamn striptease that has lasted the past 2 weeks. Anyways, I see this gem and I'm like JACKPOT and (of course) I click on the NSFW version of the picture (cause I'm a perv) and I get this one which people seem to believe is a photoshopped fake. And I believe it too. It looks mad fake. I went to school with some photoshop kings so I can tell the difference between a real shot and a doctored shot. Anyways, take a gander at the fake pic and pretend its really him.

Another F-You is going out to Suri Cruise, who is staring me down like hell right now. What, am I wearing something of yours? You think you hot? Say it to my face! Try it, Ima cut you deep! Just kidding, that alien baby is pretty damn cute. I guess my F-You is going out to Katie Holmes for having sex with Tom Cruise, and STILL having a way cuter baby than I could ever buy. I'm just jealous cause my kid is going to come out with huge Will Smith ears and a busted nose. Katie, girl, I'm stressing you better be a better influence on Suri than your "husband", cause if you let Tom raise her, you're going to end up with this in 24 years:
I'm on a roll today. How about another F-You?
America's Next Top Model starts February 28th. Good People, this is Cycle 7. Seven. This is getting rediculous. We had to suffer through garbagey photoshoots like the one seen above (and of course, this is the illustrious Jaeda). I have a theory; if you didn't make it to Cycles 1-6, then you are officially leftovers. You are like the runner-up to the runner-up to the runner-up. I have to stop - I am missing the point. These girls were BORN to model, to pose and walk and look at a camera. What little girl didn't grow up wishing "One day, Jesus, please PLEASE let me be in a CoverGirl ad that will only run in Seventeen Magazine once and then let me be cast into obscurity!"
I am still gonna watch. Tyra is too much of a diva to pass up. Bitch goes crazy on everything! "Who ate all my mayo?!?" Oh Tyra Tyra Tyra.

What the assholes are up to this weekend.

Looky-loo, it's friday already! I can't believe how fast the week has gone. It feels like just yesterday I was watching the All-Star game in my sweatpants. And now? I'm preparing for an environmental upset worse than Katrina. 905-ers. Here's what douches are getting "mad pumped" about "bra". I HATE when they call eachother 'bro' like "bra". So Lame. Let's do this thing:
Okay, so the movie 'Number 23' comes out today. It stars Jim Carrey as some dude who reads this book, and it's about him or something, and everything relates to the number 23. It sounds mad dumb. Its gonna be a dry weekend at the movie theaters. All the assholes went and saw Ghost Rider last weekend (or, if they are cheap, on Tuesday) so nobody is going to see that shit again. Seriously, if you wanna see Jim Carrey in a serious role, just watch 'Man on the Moon'. That movie is THE SHIT! On the plus-side, Reno 911! Miami comes out today too!Are you pumped? I'm pretty jazzed. Let's face it - assholes won't be seeing Reno 911! Miami. Hell, go see it at The Paramount! It's still gonna be $14, but you won't be gagging on Drakkar Noir when you are forced to look at the ugly meathead with the shell necklace sitting in front of you.
Also, fuck, the Auto Show is still on this weekend at the Metro Convention Centre. This is loser mecca. Who cares about the next generation of Hummers or the new spoilers on the...the uh...Christ, I don't know anymore cars than the Hummer (and I only know that one because of the lame grade-6 jokes that plague the Hummer on a daily basis). The worst part is the girls that get dragged along to this shit and then their boyfriend buys them a pink Dodge or Ford hat or something and THEN THEY WEAR IT!! It's almost as pathetic as the pink Toronto Maple Leafs hats.
Also on this weekend is the Academy Awards. I love asshole girls because they will find any excuse to have a party. So you know they will be having an Oscar party on Sunday. Lots of "low-cal snackies" and Sour Apple Martinis. The best part is, the majority of these idiots haven't seen the movies nominated. Why see 'The Queen' when you could see 'Saw 3' or 'National Lampoon's Pledge This!'. You know they're only watching for the dresses they'll never be able to afford. Girls can be weird sometimes.
So, The Skip-Raid hope we've been helpful in keeping you in the know about a-holes. Enjoy your weekend!



Alright, so you should know all know the deal by now - Thursday's are dedicated to things that are hot, and things that are not-so-hot. This week's hot is...
Sarah Silverman sings 'German Cars'
Unless you've been living under a rock or at Neverland Ranch for the last 4 years, then I'm sure you are familiar with the genius that is Sarah Silverman. Not only is she funny (+2 points) she is also very pretty (+4 points) and has nice hair (+3 points). Unfortunately, she just premiered her new sitcom 'The Sarah Silverman Program' which will probably be cancelled after one season (-50 points) because people are stupid and will want more 'Mind of Mencia'. Watch the brilliant little video here.

Mind of Mencia "Rap"
Well, speaking of idiot morons...allow me to introduce you to the stupidity that is 'Mind of Mencia'. I can't dedicate too much time to this mess, otherwise I'll get really sick to my stomach. I don't know much about him, but Mencia is not good. Anyways, this is the lamest thing I could find on YouTube. He sings a 'rap' (Jesus, it's like a rap my mom would write) about stupid people. Okay, newsflash Mencia. It already exists and is called 'Lift Your Head Up High' by the Bloodhound Gang.
Watch it here and feel sorry for this man.

Turdsday Turd-lebrity Gossip

Hey Possums! This week was dominated by Britney Spears, to say the least. Here's what you need to know to keep your heart from stopping. Gossip is like a defibulator. CLEAR!
Tara Tara Tara! Homegirl is looking good! Remeber way back 2 weeks ago when she looked like a crack whore? She always tries so hard to pull her broke ass outta the gutter, but let's face it - New Tara hangs around as long as a carton of milk; a few days before she starts to go chunky and sour. Let's hope this look last a little longer than a week.
Look at that face. Poor Howard K. Stern. He totally misses his gravy train. I mean, his wife. His wife. Sorry. Anna Nicole Smith is still dead, in case you were wondering, and Howard K. Stern (in my humble opinion) is G-G-G-Guilty. He totes killed ANS.
Dirty Ginger Marcia Cross gave birth to two ginger baby twins.

Last weekend was the NBA All-Star game in beeyootiful Las Vegas. And all while all the cool kids stayed at home and ate Doritos in their sweatpants, Hollywood's Biggest Douchebags came out to watch court-side. (Now, when I say 'Hollywood's Biggest Douchebags', I don't mean the Triad of Cool which was Jay-Z, Prince, and Dave Chappelle. It's cute, they all sat together). I mean Ari Gold/Jeremy Pervert, that one from the housewife show, and Cameron Diaz. Why are these idiots richer than me?
Angelina Jolie is apparently anorexic. Anorexic or not, she's still hotter than 99.9% of the population.
Mischa Barton's younger sister Hania is in rehab for loving pills too much. Look at this kid; what a ball of fun! She's going to be a riot in rehab! Mischa's girl likes to party all the time, party aaallll the tiiiimme. Wait, is Hania only famous cause of Mischa? Santa Maria!
Speaking of the miracles of rehab...Lindsay Lohan looks stunning as she celebrates her first weekend out of rehab. Look at those bloodshot eyes, that bloated face...THAT'S how you beat alcoholism. With alcohol. Give her a break; Lohans have a hard time being normal.
Good Charlotte and Nicole Ritchie are still a couple. You know when your ex catches you with your new bg/gf, and the new one is such an embarrasing downgrade, and the moment could only get more mortifying if you shit your pants? Hilary Duff must be laughing her ass of right now at the two of them.
And finally, Paris Hilton celebrated her 26th Birthday last weekend. 26? Hag. Apparently the only 'name' at her party was Nicky Hilton (do we even consider her a 'name'?) and none of her friends showed up. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!! Let me get another one in here....AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!
It's pretty bad when the only people at your birthday party are getting paid to be there.


The Onion does Sanrio

Meet Hello Kitty's newest friend, Batsu-Ichi, a divorced father of two. It's like Sanrio's answer to Kirk Van Houten.
Read the adora-cute article here.


Epic Candy Battle 3001: Cherryhead vs. Grapehead

Lemonheads. Sweet coating, soft sour shell, hard candy core. Classic. Now, unlike the shitty band that named themselves after them (trust me, when your biggest hit is a sped-up cover of an already fine pop song, you suck), these candies are quality. Cheap, simple, pleasing to the senses, and contained within nice-looking tiny boxes. People realized this, ushering in the glorious era of the fruit head. Included here are the two very best of the brand, battling it out for supremacy for your reading pleasure today, Cherryhead and Grapehead. Head to head. Let's Go!

Cherryhead - dark red
Grapehead - violet (purple is for chumps)

Cherryhead - Sucrets
Grapehead - Grape-flavoured Tylenol

Cherryhead - rabbit testicle
Grapehead - gallstone

Cherryhead - high
Grapehead - high

Cherryhead - substantial (dude's got a fucking stalk coming out of his comb-over!)
Grapehead - considerable (think old lumpy grampa)

Cherryhead - lack of oral sex jokes on packaging
Grapehead - lack of oral sex jokes on packaging

WINNER: Cherryheads, because I ate them all first.

Monday's Versus

The weekend gives a few of us here at The Skip-Raid some pent-up anger (please see Friday's post). So we like to have a little segment called Versus. In honour of the many hours we spent drinking this weekend, this week's Versus: Diarreah Vs. Vomiting

We have each picked a side. LET'S RUMBLE!!

DIARREAH: I like to think of diarrhea as a natural extension of a process we partake in every day (less so when camping, if you know what I mean).

VOMITING: Really smartass? So is vomiting if you're bulimic. Seriously, how many times have you eaten something that makes you barf as opposed to something that makes you shit? Diarreah happens much more than vomiting does.

DIARREAH: Well, unlike puking, which is generally associated with being hideously drunk or being afflicted with food poisoning or stomach flu, the squirts can simply be the result of a little too much Chinese food or a particularly greasy burrito. It's not that bad. It gives you time to get to a toilet, unlike vomiting which gives you a 't-minus 3 seconds' heads-up.

VOMITING: Not true - you can usually tell when you are about to vom. I win.

DIARREAH: No, you don't. Upchucking is always uncomfortable and leaves your mouth tasting like ass, while diarrhea is really more of a swift, smooth, transitionary phase of your bowels, and has no negative effects on your minty fresh breath. While getting the skitters can be noisy, puking is also capable of being very loud. Losing your lunch produces a venerable symphony of cacophony, while loose pooping sounds almost pleasant, and nearly always hilarious.

VOMITING: Although a good shit makes the bathroom smell for a solid 45 minutes afterwards. Vomiting leaves the bathroom ready for the next person ready to defile it. Vomiting is respectful of others like that.

DIARREAH: But there is one simple fact that forever renders puking a worse thing than diarrhea: You can die from barfing.

VOMITING: No you can't. Only if you are vomiting while in a coma or something.

DIARREAH: Vomiting is responsible for the break up of Led Zeppelin, folks. I rest my case.

VOMITING: Shit. You win.

WINNER: Diarreah. Having the shits puts your ass in horrible pain for about 10 minutes, but a hangover can last all goddamn day. We'd rather have the booze poos than feel nauseous everytime one of our friends offers to buy us a "warm pork sandwich dipped in whiskey" (just to get us to barf).

Cecil and Maureen's Olde-Tyme Sunday Breakfast Reviewery

This week, Cecil and Maureen are reviewing breakfast at Mel's Montreal Delicatessen at 440 Bloor St. West. Open 24hrs. Breakfast for 2: $22.75 plus tip.

Maureen: Well bless my stars! I'm just pleased as punch that Cecil and I can come to you every week and tell you a little something about one of our favorite subjects: Sunday Breakfasts! This week, Cecil and I reviewed Mel's Montreal Delicatessen. Tell 'em about it, Peaches!

Cecil: Geez Louise, Reeny, where do I start? First, I need to stress that we stick to the 4 Disciples of Jesus's Breakfast Table: egg, meat, potato, and bread. We try to avoid the likes of other more questionable add-ons, like waffles.

Maureen: Shameful.

Cecil: Agreed. I ordered "Mel's All-Day Breakfast" for the wife and I from the young lady serving us, mine with toast...

Maureen: ...and mine with a bagel! Oooh, the risk was well worth it! Normally I don't eat bagels, but I had just gotten my hair highlighted the day before and decided to live a little!

Maureen's Bagel Breakfast

Cecil: She just goes hog wild after a trip to the salon. It's a good thing it only happens once a month. When it comes to eggs, I like mine scrambled. Mix 'em all together, cook 'em up as one. Just like America. One nation. The wife likes hers over easy on account her eggs are 'over hard' if you know what I mean!

Maureen: I'm infertile! God gave me one working ovary and blessed us with our son, Derek.

Cecil: As for drinks, I ordered an orange juice so I could take my back pills.

Maureen: And you know me, Cecil...hand over the coffee and nobody get's hurt! I also sprung for a glass of chocolate milk to cut my coffee with. I had already ordered a bagel; add to that a cup of straight coffee and I'd be swinging from the rafters.

Cecil: I was just as happy as could be when only 9 minutes and 57 seconds after ordering, our piping hot breakfasts arrived at our table. Those hashbrowns were just to die for. I believe I tasted onion in them.

Maureen: Well, not to correct you dear, but they were shallots.

Cecil: What the fuck is a shallot? Some kind of red onion?

Maureen: Sort of. Its a tiny bulb of the onion family.

Cecil: How do you know that, smart-ass?

Maureen: I learned it from The Food Network. Anyway, I thought the hasbrowns were simply sublime compared to that bacon. So oily!

Cecil: I agree. I have high cholesterol! They should know that! Thankfully I take Cholestra, otherwise I might be writing this review from a bed at Cedars-Sinai. Did you know that fat is just solid oil?

Cecil's breakfast, complete with oily bacon.

Maureen: Yes, everybody knows that. Well, I don't know about you, but I'd say I had a lovely breakfast. The eggs were cooked perfectly and my fruit cup was terrific!

Cecil: Yes, but you specifically asked for no rhubarb jam with your bagel, and they brought you rhubarb jam.

Maureen: Rhubarb is nature's discharge.

Cecil: It's all stalk, no fruit!

Maureen: The stalk IS the fruit. How bizzare.

Cecil: Rhubarb, shmubarb. I think, for $6.24 we got a pretty good deal. Now if only those bastards over at Denny's would lower their price of a Grand-Slam, we'd be in business.

Maureen: We reccomend you treat your family to breakfast at Mel's Montreal Delicatessen. Join us next Monday for another wholesome helping of Cecil and Maureen's Olde-Tyme Breakfast Reviewery!




"Hey y'all! I done shaved off all mah hairs!"

Britney Britney Britney. What is up, girl. We need to have a talk, bitch. Look, I know I live for crazy shit like this. The Skip-Raid loves a fuck-up. But a meltdown? Britney, this is not going to fare well in divorce court when K-Fed tries to get custody of Tater-Tot and Sean Preston II and then he gets full custody and raises them to be gold-digging players that wear the same blazer with a stupid silk-screened skull on it. With that being said, I'm going to the mall. Britney, get your ass a catscan.



Every Friday here at The Skip Raid, we make like a Public Health Nurse on lice-check day and go over the week with a fine-toothed comb. Monday through Friday we whittle away a little list of people, things, or situations that really chapped our asses. Here we go now.

Fuck You Cold Weather.

Seriously, it's like -20 degrees outside. What the Hell? Al Gore, can you explain this shit to me? I am freezing! What happened to Global Warming? There is a key word in that question that's not making sense to me when I am freezing my ass off outside. Do something about it, okay? Get back to me Gorry. Global Warming is like school on a Saturday: No Class. Also, I googled "cold" and this picture popped up. It says its 'the common cold'. Obvs, its something from China. Only in Hong Kong would they see the common cold as an adorable furry blue bushbaby. I love China.

Fuck You Sienna Miller in Factory Girl.

Sluttienna, you are on watch! You are such trash, it terrifies me to look at your face. Yes, you have cool clothes...

...so does Rachael Zoe, but she is what Satan wants to be when he grows up.

What the assholes are up to this weekend

Happy End-of-the-Week urrbody! Are you as excited about the weekend as I am? No? Cool, respect. Anyways, I don't know where you live, but in my city every Friday the city is swarmed with filthy strangers. They come into the city Friday night and rape and pillage the downtown 'till Sunday morning. We call these leeches '905-ers'. I don't think I need to explain why. All the Brads and Chads pull out their best striped dress shirt from Urban Behaviour and the skanks wax themselves within an inch of their lives (if there is time, they will go get a few extra shitty thick vanilla highlights).

So they pile into their Honda Civics (if they live in Markham) or Mustangs (if they live in Woodbridge) and drunk-drive down to Clubland Mecca - John St. and Richmond St. in hopes of date-raping a fake-titted skank. This is their lives; it's really quite sad, non?
Well, if they can't get rid of their one-night stand from The Guvernment from the night before, then they have to think on their feet and plan a date for Saturday night. It is, after all, the weekend after Valentine's Day. Let romance fill the air as I give you a little once-over of places to avoid this weekend.

The Guvernment (doye)
Seriously, why would you be caught dead here? Sure, its a pretty decent spot for shows: not-too-expensive beers, good acoustics, you are breathing the same air as the band. But come 12:00am when that band exits the stage and you are in line for coatcheck, you can see Society's Discharge just itching to get it (the itching may also be from STI's). From 12:00am - like, fucking 4am, its house/trance/e-tards/eurotrash non-stop. And the meatheads, Santa Maria, the meatheads. As far as the eyes can see. They are like walking boners.

Plus dumb sluts. Plus $20 cover. Plus 'DJ Dicksmack' who keeps saying, in a forced London accent, "Eye wannah see oll tha ladies get woylled! Yeah! Gryynd it, gryynd it!". It's only gonna get worse come March when everything will be themed up like Mardi-Gras (aka The Patron Holiday of Gash-Flashes)

The Paramount at John & Richmond
Not only is this place way too expensive (seriously, does NOBODY go to the Bloor Cinema?!?) but it's packed with Brads and Chads cutting holes out of the bottom of popcorn bags like there's no tomorrow. This is seriously the only movie theatre in the city where you'll see people dressed up like they are going to a club.

So yeah, dumb skanks will wanna see 'Music and Lyrics' with Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant. I don't blame them. This weekend is shit for new movies. I'd go see 'Music and Lyrics', but that's because I'll do anything to get out of my house and avoid doing the dishes.

On the other hand, the most jock-stastic movie of the past couple of months, 'Ghost Rider' premiers today. WHO IS GOING TO ACTUALLY SEE THIS PIECE OF TRASH?!?! Come on! My cousin is 6, is super-into Batman and Spiderman (we are both counting down till Spiderman 3) and even SHE knew Ghost Rider was going to be terrible. A six-year-old! Give her a damn movie studio. But you know what they say: "Give a 6 year old girl a movie studio, and she will eventually finance a movie about a man in a fat-woman suit". That explains how 'Norbit' was the highest grossing movie last weekend. Good God.

I say, save yourself the $14 you'd spend on 'Ghost Rider' the movie and spend it on Ghost Rider the belt buckle. Viva La Buckle!

And, as usual, they will finish off the night at The Old Spaghetti Factory. Two can dine for $12.99.


Turdsday Turd-lebrity Gossip

Okay, so here is all you really need to know to get through today. Ready, set, go.

Beyonce is airbrushed within an inch of her life in this month's Sport's Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. What, Rhianna and Ciara were busy? Also, does anyone read Sport's Illustrated Swimsuit Issues anymore, what with internet porn being as accessible as it is? Seriously, why spend $3.95 US to see a half-naked Beyonce when you could just request Destiny's Child's 'Survivor' on Much Music for free? Just asking.

Anna Nicole Smith is still dead.

Lindsay "L'il Snowwy Nose" Lohan takes a break from rehab to film her latest movie "Big Fat Waste of Money" or something. Whatever the hell it is, its going to suck something hard. Lohan's good movies: The Parent Trap & Mean Girls. Lohan's shit movies: Freaky Friday, Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen, Just My Luck, A Prairie Home Companion, Bobby, et cetera et cetera et cetera. Girl has had more nosedives than Paris Hilton has had gash-flashes.

"Hey y'all! Lookee here at my new piece of sparkle! I hauled my ass down to Jacob the Jeweler and said 'Jacob...Britney needs a glittery-ass necktie' and he done it for me. 1.7 carats worth o' diamonds. Hoo-wee, it almost makes me forget about the mistakes I've made in the past 2 years: K-Fed, Sean Preston, Sean Preston II, gettin' fat. Now enough bitchin', let's get our party on, whores! Hot Dang!"

My girl Lily Allen takes home a grand total of 0 awards at last night's Brit Awards. S'okay, L'Allen. You still hate Peaches Geldof, so you win a hundred Skip-Raid awards.


Extra! Extra! Fergie-ferg is still a scary troll! Don't get me wrong - bitch has a killer body. But look at that face! Santa-Maria! I feel like I'm watching the version of The Exorcist where images of Pazuzu's face appear out of nowhere to frighten you! Somebody get 30 cc's of Holy Water, stat!

Wake Up, it's Turdsday!

That means it's time for the weekly HOT/NOT SO HOT. Let's do this thing...



SNL has been taking a major dump on Saturday nights between the hours of 11:30 and 1am. It blows and has been for years. EXCEPT for the SNL Digital Shorts: Chronicles of Narnia, Lazer Cats, Dick in a Box, Body Fuzion. These are pretty damn good. NOT GREAT, but good. It's basically the level SNL should be at, short of ressurecting the bodies of Gilda Radner and John Belushi. Now, this video isn't a Digital Short. It aired at 12:59 (which is the time slot after the musical guest's second performance and before they do the stupid bows at the end...its a time-filler). So when I saw this, I thought "I'm sorry, Lorne Michaels, is there a reason you put this last when nobody is watching?" It's a thing of beauty. Where else can you see a video of sloths ripping out a guitar with Sloth from 'The Goonies' like they're fucking Wyld Stallyns? That's what I thought. "We sleep 18 hours but we always party 24" and "we got 3 toes but we'll pound 3000 Bud Lights" are pure poetry. I also love at the end when Kristin Wiig goes "thats...not entirely accurate".

Watch Sloths! Here! Now! Do it!



There, I said it. Ninjas are the new Mullet. So 3 years ago, and dumb assclowns can't stop talking about them. Guess what? Ninja jokes are lame. Yeah, they love stealth and could kill you with one punch, big deal. People who talk about ninjas are the same people who like, a year ago were like "you are the weakest link...goodbye!" or regaled people with Elian Gonzales jokes. So there - ninjas are lame.

This Week's Delicious Candy

Cherry Blasters
What's not to love? Sour, check. Sweet, check. Cherry, check. And let's face it - the best part is after eating all the sweet sweet candy, you get tonnes of 'sour powder' to eat out of the bottom of the bag. Sometimes, I like to pretend it's cocaine and that I'm Tony Montana. Then I repeat the word 'cockroaches' over and over again. "Cock-ah-rrroach-isss!". But back to the candy...look at that bag. They recently re-branded The Blaster. They are subliminally trying to tell you through the typeface that Cherry Blasters are totally dangerous and street. They might as well call them 'Cherry Poppers'. Am I the only one taking that away from the bag? I am? Maybe it's cause I lost my virginity in a convenience store. Anyways, it's Wednesday. Treat yourself to a bag of Cherry Blasters.