Friday, July 31, 2009

Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!

I guess I still need a boost of self-importance! Since I'm a vain little cholito I decided to record mahself singing screeching like a murder victim as I drove to and from the bank today. I needed to dump all my coinz into that Penny Arcade slut. Damn, am I the only one who wantz to kick that little pig-tailed bitch in the face?! I know how to shove my coinz into the machine and duh I'm gonna take my receipt to the teller! Geebz! I plow that ho with my hot silver every other week...she should remember me by now! Anyway, here are two videoz of me singing and pretending that a) I'm famous, and b) people want to hear me sing.

Fleetwood Mac - "Go Your Own Way"

Megan Joy - "Rockin' Robin"

Why yes Paula, I can sing the phonebook!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Stormy Weather

So Gawd must have eaten a whole field of laxative-coated strawberries two nightz ago or chugged three gallonz of beerz, cuz those are the only two logical explanationz as to why the sky diarrhead over all of the east coast yesterday. Like, some rainstormz are fine. Even a torrential downpour occasionally, I can deal. But when it startz to vom Niagra Fall-caliber raindropz for 6 horaz straight, I start to get aggravated.

It was Wednesday, so I was up in Nueva Nueva doing my city thang and workin' for the man every night and day. Wellz, about 3 in the afternoon, cloudz starting exploding and dumping their placenta deluxe all over the place. But I (foolishly) thought to mahself, "Don't worry gringo, you have another three horaz till you book it, and by then the rain for most supa serial will have dissipated." Well...I was fucking wrong. It was still pouring and I took the subway, fearing the worst as it approached Times Square and I walked my timid behind over to the Port Authority.

And then I died. Walking up to the fourth floor gatez (where my bus is), I couldn't believe my twitching little ojoz. There were linez to each gate scaling back two to three bus loads. Then I saw the line for Gate 419 (aka mine) and it was ten thousand yearz long and I died again and was resurrected and then cried. So I placed mis nalgaz in the queue and observed the numerous hundred other peepz crowded up around me. Everyone was bitching about having to wait and while I am all for complaining all the time about everyting, I hate hearing other people do it. CHUT UP! I know it sux being here, but you slapping your dopey lipz about it and shaking your sweaty mop of a head in my direction isn't going to make it any better...bitchtitz.

People started shoving each other like cattle, like there is anywhere to go, and some old lady started screaming about someone elbowing her in the face and while I would laugh hysterically any other day @ that, all I could do in my terrified/upset state was stare ahead and ignored everyone. At one point I tried to make frustrated eye rollz with this cute guy two linez over but I tink he was straight and a wannabe rapper, so he ignored my desperate eye-fuck advancez. Then I watched two mexicanoz chow down on each other'z facez and bite their tongues and erupt in kissmania and shit and I vommed out of jealousy. This is a picture of the mob de angry impatient choloz @ the Port Authority:

Finally a bus opened up and by the time my dopey butt squirmed it's way to the entry point, there was standing room only, or else you'd have to wait 3.5 billion horaz for the next one. Considering that it was already an hour and a half after the shuttle was supposed to dump our asses off @ their designated stopz, I decided to suck it up and stand...for the hour and twenty minute bus ride. Long story short: It sucked, my armz hurt and I spent the majority of the trip trying not to pass out and watching this old AZN lady sitting in the row I was standing next to as she slowly started to fall asleep and slide her way outta the seat and into the aisle. Haha! If bitch completely exited the chair I was totez gonna plop my bunz down in there and tell her to go eff off if/when she woke up. [Oh who am I kidding? I'd say I'm sorry and graciously let her back in.]

Then I got to the bus station and drove 10 MPH all the way home cuz it was still torrential shitpouring. It stopped by the time I got home and I entered the kitchen to find a piece of chocolate & mantequilla de cacahuatez cake left for me by Shawn. That pretty much made my life better. Until I vommed it up later cuz you know...I have to keep my girlish figure.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

My Crib!

So since I am the most important person in everyone's vida, I thought it would be incredibly gracious and sexxxy of me to give all you silly choloz a little tour of mah crib. In an attempt to get you to know me better (and have you love me for my eccentricitiez and adorable quirks), I have created a poorly-made slideshow tour of my house decked out with funny captionz and unfitting spook music! Enjoy me and mah personal belongingz! Ew...not those belongingz, you perverto! [that's for anotha post]

[P to da S: The slideshow actually is artarded and suckz a lot. I would fix it...but...too...tirez! Eyez...can't stare...@...screen anymo!]

Monday, July 27, 2009

My Monday Muse

[Former] Miss Teen South Carolina

I have to tank my friend personal matchmaker Jordan for introducing me to my future lover. This gorge beauty above will be the father of my bastard children. I know it. If her obvious sense of style and ambition of looking like a fat Vanessa Carlton didn't woo mah heart and throw my whore-ass down onto my kneez, then for def def defferz the video below seducez me and thus causes my clothes to suddenly be ripped off in anticipation for our honeymoon. Check out this vid where she addresses the city council of Someplace, California about...I guess, agricultural issuez? Not entirely sure, but that's because her speech to the board members is so engrossing and powerful that it encompasses many of today's national issues. Watch and then let me profess my respect for her brain:

Hot Topic Issue #1: Pesticides
For obvz she is a concerned California resident (I mean, it is her home. SHE LIVEZ THERE!), that apparently is up-in-armz with the use of dangerous pesticidez on organic produce. Why can't they use a safe-for-human-consumption chemical on the all-natural organic cropz?! I hear ya Miss SC! The first question I tink of when I hear the word "organic" is: It's all natural and blah blah, but how tasty and safe is the chemical that [isn't] coating its flesh? I mean, nothing screamz "HEALTHY! GOOD FOR PEOPLE!" more than [perfect] toxic chemicals blanketing a derricious strawberry that you're about to feed your 5 year-old child (after freezing forever). And organic cropz without pesticides?! Are you crazzzerz? The food will rot and we will die, cuz we need the food cuz it's FOOD (feat. stuff).

Hot Topic Issue #2: Rent
Downtown there are apparently blocks of empty buildings waiting to be filled with expert thing-making people (and their machinez). But what with the rents being so high, no one can afford to work there! People! This is our home! This is California! I am with my girlfriend on dis, for serial. How can skilled nobodies make their shiz and sell it in stores if they can't afford to even exist?! Just imagine it folkz [and try not to pop wood with their euphoric ideaz], California shopownerz could be effing rich in cotton, mining gold and silkwormz if they were just given fees low enough to get their asses up-and-going! Glorious day! Silkwormz everywhere! Tink of all the tingz...CARZ that we the machinez can make for us! My mouth is watering worse than when I see a half-price bag of caramel cremes at the grocery store!

Hot Topic Issue #3: East Coast Manufacturing Methodz
Leave it to mah girrrrl to expose the dastardly evil labor discretionz of the east coast.'s true. We do have slaves and do believe in slavery/made-in-China. Eye-opening! Watch out Andersen Cooper, this deity just might be taking your jerbz! When she unsheathes our terrifying slavery tactics, look how that ignorant uninformed cholo behind lookz up in shock! Another fool made wise by my mamacita! On the new west coast, they believe in unionz. Gawdz! We are such barbaric monstaz here on the Atlantic Coast!

Hot Topic Issue #4: Agricultural Costz
People! We live in California! This is our home! This is where we live! Agriculture is not that complicated! There are two kinds of treez in the world. Fruit trees and veggies trees. All you do is grow the trees, pick the produce and freeeeeze it. If you don't freeeze it? It will go bad (in approximately...awhile). Want to know why growing food is SO. GOOD? It's free! When I heard her utter THAT word (aka my favo word in the total mundo!), I had to take a break from my laptop to go cool off with a couple dozen Fla-Vor-Ice. Damn she knowz how to get my hawt! Allz we has to do is pay the farmerz! FREE! She does pose a question to the board though that I'm sure they haven't been able to answer yet. In fear of not properly paraphrasing her intricate inquiry/hypothesis, I thought I'd just transcribe it her way: "Why do we have to pay for the land? The land is free, it's new land, ya know? Do we have to pay for the land? Do we have to pay rent? Do we have to pay? Umz, the food's free so we should just............sell it at the...farmer's market."

What a skilled speech-writer! And that delivery! This goddess would for def def defferz give any 8th grade Public Speaking student a run for their money! I for one hope that Miss South Carolina's speech swayed the council (she got applause! They love her too!) and that they will work with her to create a "California Thing" that "will really work out."

Saturday, July 25, 2009

You better go and get your (ear) armor.

I live in a world of delusionz. I know it's true and I have grown to accept embarrassing realization that I spend most of my dayz doing one of two tings: a) coming up with ideaz for mah blog; or b) daydreaming about my future fame [fingaz crossed]. Such daydreams often will revolve around me doing a number of tingz to achieve nationwide recognition. Some of my favo fantasiez are: 1. I'm a recognized and critically praised poet who combines the emotions and passion of classical poetry with the form and structure of cutting edge contemporary work, thus impressing the traditionalistz while also drawing in a younger and less-expected crowd to the poetry world; 2. I win the Best Supporting Actor Oscar at the Academy Awardz for a movie about a male prostitute and the close yet volatile relationship he has with a client-turned-lover who is a closeted business man...oh! that I wrote the screenplay for; or 3. I'm a talented underdog on a season of American Idol where I receive kudoz for being mahself and taking chances with my song choices (a blog entry will be coming in the future highlighting what my repertoire will be, cuz you know I have it all planned out)

And what better way to practice for this dream than to sing my bunghole off while driving?! Since I've decided to stop giving shetz about what people tink, I thought it would be a funny idea to record mahself while I was driving home from Princeton yesterday. Here I am singing two songz and pretending I'm a diva [see: my sassy hand shimmies]. Sorry in advance.

PS, please note how I am totez not paying attention to the road. I'm smarterz!

Patsy Cline - "Walkin' After Midnight"

Jordin Sparks PorkSauce - "Battlefield"

Simon, Randy & Kara would hate me. Paula would seal-clap...a lot.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


I'm tired of writing all the time. I'm lazy and running out of tingz to blog about...Oh hell, I'm a huge fucking liar, I can't get enough trash-talking! But I do want to try and make my blog more interactive with the handful of people that visit it semi-regularly. Also, since I work crazzzy long horaz Tues-Thurz, I feel like my blog gets often times neglected during the week. So thereforez I am instituting a string of short theme postz where I will ask a rando question of sortz, answer it mahself and then leave it up to you beautiful commenterz to share your own little storiez while answering! It's like effing elementary school morning circle[jerk] all ova again! Memoriez! I want to get to know you all a little better, and what better way to do that than ask irrelevant and sporadic questionz?! For this first entry, I thought I'd pick a question that I know everyone will be able to answer...

What's your least favorite song?

And I don't mean a song that irritatez you a bit (Eiffel 65's "Blue (Da Ba Dee)") or a song that got hardcore played out on the radio (Santana & Rob Thomas' "Smooth") or even a song that's just fucking stupid (Vitamin C's "Graduation (Friends Forever)")...I mean a song so incredibly terrible to you that when you heard it for the first time it ate a cancerous hole into your psyche where it sitz and waits to make you feel faint and ill everytime you hear it.

Now, anyone that knowz my dopey butt is aware that I love pop music. All genrez of music are respected in my music library, but crappy pop music is alwayz one of my favz. And flash-in-the-pan has-beenz & one-hit wonderz?! I can't live without them! Samantha Mumba, Kandi, SoulDecision, Craig David, The Darkness...all of these artists had their shining moment of fame, only to become a faded star in the all-encompassing blackhole that is my Windows Media Player music library. But there is a one-hit wonder out there that never got any guilty pleasure lovin' outta my magic stick. A song so terrible that hearing it puts me in a dizzying spell of vertigo. I knew from the second I heard dis song that there would never be another track in the world that I could hate with as much venom as I do this one. And that song is...

Len's "Steal My Sunshine"

VOOOOOOOOOOOOOMZZZZZZZ! Ew. Chunkz are everywhere and I need to go fetch my ShamWow and do some spot cleaning. Serial though, my history with this song is a short one that is not terribly complicated or all the interesting. Anyone that has heard this song (if you were lucky enough to miss out on it when it bubonic plagued America back in 1999, then click on the song title above and prepare for a headache) knowz that it's one of those SuMmAtImE JaMzzzZZzZZz that everyone blasts for three months before archiving to the back of your brain along with "She Bangs" and "I Wanna Be Bad." In all due respect to Len (yeah...who?!), the song is technically a good pop song. A clever hook, upbeat tempo and a feel-good vibe that is fun to get drunk and singalong to. But there is something ingrained in my head that refuses to make me not feel violently frustrated when it comez on. Perhaps it's the dude's gross raspy frat-guy smoking-a-clove voice, or those odd swirling synth soundz that loop throughout the backing track of the chorus, but whateva it is, I am not exaggerating when I say that my templez start to pound when this monstrous tune from hell crawlz out of the 90s and reinfiltrates the radio once every summer. It's like an apocalyptic groundhog!

Ok, so now we all know that "Steal My Sunshine" by Len is my own personal culling song, so tell me, what song do you hope getz erased from the history bookz and forever damned to nonexistence?! Tink long and hard and then post!

Monday, July 20, 2009

My Monday Muse

The ShamWow Pepaw

Ok, so this dude's actual name is Vince Offer. He's that stud with the contorting beef jerky face and penetrating-to-the-point-of-discomfort eyez that is always yelling @ you while you try to watch Wipeout and other equally awesome showz. No, not Billy Mays...he's the dead one. Mr. Offer is known for pimping out during his aggressively demanding informercialz for the ShamWow (a magic towel that can hold a lot of liquid) and the Slap Chop (a hand-operated food processor that was already invented ten yearz ago). I think I may be alone here, but I tink he is quite attractive and I lurve his veiny armz, crusty hair and angry demeanor. Oh! And he was arrested a few months ago for beating some ho down that was all maker outerz with him and sunk her girl teeth into his tongue and wouldn't let go. For obvz he smacked her face off. Then got arrested. Geebz, that's reason #274 that I don't make out with girlz.

Anyway, I think he's supa hot and his faux-enthusiasm for artarded products makes my trigger switch get even testier. Take a look @ his famous advert for ShamWow:

Vince, tell me about the ShamWow. What are its benefitz?!?! WOOOOOW! It's like a sponge, shammy AND a towel...all in one?! And yes! You're right! I do work too hard to have to bother with tingz as mundane as cleaning. I CaN LEt Da ShAmWow dO aLL thA wErkx FoR mE! It's a comfort to know it's made in Germany, cuz though I can't tink of a single item in my life that comez from wherever that place is, I'm sure they do a great job. Apparently Olympic diverz use it to wash off their hott bodiez, but I tink I'd much rather wash off Vince's hot arm hair...with my face. OMGAWDZ! I hate smelly cola! And carpetz! He and I are so much alike!

Please take note of the genius testimonialz and how beautiful all the cholaz are that they interview. Funny how they all have hard-onz for the ShamWow, yet seem to be at some sort of garage sale for it, holding unwrapped packages of this God towel. They must love them so much that they all jump in their old lady vanz and follow the ShamWow convention around the country like a bunch of hungry groupiez! If Vince was there, you know my stupid ass would be driving worldwide, buying every last ShamWow they had.

Of course beauty and genius are two tingz that don't go ignored, so here are several hilarz parodiez of this aforeposted infomercial:


I'm so strong! Eeerrrrrrgggg!

Jesus Christ Sponge!

Oh no! Party foul! No, I'm just kidding, I'm doing this on purpose.


That nose is gonna pop a butterfly!

But my dear bloggy friendz...though imitationz may be hysterical, nothing is really funnier than da real ting. Case in point, my future prone-to-violence and thus estranged husband's infomercial for the SlapChop (aka our favo position):

What I learned about the SlapChop:

a. With this device, I can "slap my trubblez away."
b. Baby Carrot + Celery + Tomato = Salad, a fine substitution for pizza.
c. What begetz a borrrring life? Boring tuna, you idiot!
d. Hard-boiled Egg + Pickle + Green Onion + Ham = Breakfast[?] & an Exciting Life!
e. I'm gonna love his nutz...oh well, I already knew dat.
f. Life is hard enough as it is, and I don't want to cry anymore! Murder an onion!
g. The key to making America not fat anymore is slapping, lotz and lotz of slapping.
h. The accompanying cheese-slicing device, the Graty, can be used to make tacoz, frettuccine, linguine, martini AND bikini!

Between the ShamWow, SlapChop, Graty and daddy Vince's domestic abuse, there really is NOTHING else I need in life. Well, maybe some self-respect, but that's asking a lot.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

I'm a crazy cat perzon.

Yeah yeah...I've posted about my catz like a million timez before, but whatevz! They're adorablez and the greatest ting en mi vida (yes, I love them even more than Brown Sugar Cinnamon Pop-Tarts). Since Shawn and I are little softiez, we couldn't put off naming our three-week old kittenz. We have two peepz that are interested in taking one kitten each. But that still leavez us with three! Pweaze, if you know anyone that is looking for a blindingly adorable cat that will love it and who isn't a potential maniac that will hurt it, let me know!

Well, here is the updated
Greenbaum Farm Kitten Family Album

Daddy Mowgli

Mama Hermanita

Older Brother Baberz

And now, what you've all been waiting for (trust me, you've been waiting for dis)... THE FEARSOME FIVE!

Baby #1: Butterscotch

Baby #2: Mr. Chocolate

Baby #3: Smokester

Baby #4: Reeses

Baby #5: Midnight Angel Man


I am. So now I'll end this entry with a video clip of the happy new family. Of course Mowgli is missing. He used to hate Baberz with a violent passion and though they are close now, I tink he might actually flip multiple shitz if he was to find out that a piñata of new babiez waterfalled outta Hermanita's lady chute. So we're keeping him confined to the first floor in hopez that he doesn't lose his effing kitty mind.

p to da s: Please ignore my vom-inducing voice and uncomfortably abusive commentz...Shawn and I were just going deaf/dumb/blind from looking at that derriciouz kitten brigade.]

Friday, July 17, 2009

Quadruple Feature!

When I was in college, I was an Arts & Entertainment writer for my school's newspaper. I was also the resident movie critic and would churn out film reviewz like Heidi Montag churnz out terrible songz. Well, I thought I'd channel the collegiate me of over a year ago and review some moviez that I have seen in the past two weeks. Excitingz!

Spring Breakdown

"Get it together!"

I watched this film because... The day after my 4th of July adventure, my friend Chris and I were tired from our heavy drinking and decided to loaf out on his couch all day. And what better way to cure a hangover than to watch other people get hammered?!

I thought this movie was... a hysterical romp through college depravity. Laughing @ drunk people (including mahself) is in my top ten favo pasttimez, aka what this entire movie is.

The best part of the pelicula was... whenever Amy Poehler did anything. She makes my lungz run out of air and then I die via laughing too hardz. Oh and her husband Will Arnett (who has a cameo as a blind guy) makes my San Andreas fault shake like a 8.0 Richter scale earthquake. Oh and this may make me an immature little gringo, but I still find people spontaneously vomiting to be absolutely hilarz.

The film could have really done with more... slutz degrading themselvez and flashing their boobiez. Let's be supa serial for a hot minute, can a film ever have enough chesticlez?!

What I hated about it was... that ho Kristin Cavallari and her unecessary role as vapid blonde bitch #3. Go back to Laguna and record the shitty pop dance record we all know you're secretly dying to eventually make.

All in all I think... it's funny to watch over-sexxxed youthz disrespect demselvez. And I'm beginning to realize that any movie (or TV show) featuring Jane Lynch will instantly become a classic in my book.


"Game over!"

I watched this film because... I'm sucka for horror filmz, especially those first-person jabbiez like Cloverfield and The Blair Witch Project. It'S lYkE Ur iN da MovIe!

I thought this movie was... terrifying and a creative idea for a film. I mean, it might not be a remake of an 80's slasha film or a Japanese-inspired ghost story about scary children (aka every horror movie nowadayz), but it was fantastico and did have me making browniez in my pants @ some partz.

The best part of the pelicula was... seeing crazzzy old ladiez attack peepz. Now whenever I see an old woman on the subway, I don't feel bad blatantly sneering @ her, cuz for all I know, she could be an infected hussy who is fixin' to eat my face off.

The film could have really done with more... scenez where Jay Hernandez takez his shirt off. There weren't any in the film and that's bullshit. I mean, if you are gonna have a movie starring someone with as much Latino heat as dis perro caliente, then you need to have at least one scene where he lets his nipz pop out!

What I hated about it was... how the trailer and movie poster ruin the movie! I hope some movie executivez got fired for that shiz. If you see the pelicula, you will totez understand why I'm pizza'ed off!

All in all I think... it was one of the best freak-out moviez in a long time. It reminded me of one of my favo video gamez en the entire mundo, Fatal Frame in how it was filmed. And nostalgia = key to my heart!

Little Children

"I was only trying to cool off!"

I watched this film because... Now that I have Netflix, I've been totez about looking up former Oscar-nominated moviez in the hopez that by watching them I will be more likely to reach my dream of winning the Best Supporting Actor award sometime in my future. Oh, and I want Enrico to like me more.

I thought this movie was... similar to American Beauty in its depiction of how fucked up suburban life really can be. And anyone that knowz me (or took my Facebook friendship test!) is aware that American Beauty is my favo movie of all time.

The best part of the pelicula was... listening to Kate Winslet be sassy and sarcastic to the cast of stupid gringa neighborz she has and watching Patrick Wilson hypnotize me with his hot-as-the-sun torso. Derriciouz!

The film could have really done with more... sex scenez cuz they were mad sexxxerz and I am apparently just going through puberty now.

What I hated about it was... Jackie Earle Haley didn't win an Oscar for his role as a "recovered" sex offender. He did an amazing job, and I'm sorry Eddie Murphy (from Dreamgirls) and Alan Arkin (from Little Miss Sunshine), but that statuette frrrealz belongz to him!

All in all I think... twaz one of the best overall filmz I've seen in a good loooooong while. And it reaffirmed my desire to put off having children for the time being. So much responsibility!


"The baby is a dick magnet."

I watched this film because... Durhz...everyone in the entire mundo is talking about it.

I thought this movie was... funny but nearly impossible to describe. Though I didn't find it as gut-busting as some other choloz I know, it did have its moments that put me into stitched-up hysterix.

The best part of the pelicula was... the talking penis. I. DIED.

The film could have really done with more... harrassing of Paula Abdul cuz she's awkward and making fun of the West Boro Baptist Church, cuz dem hoz iz crazycopterz!

What I hated about it was... the gross makeout scene in the wrestling ring. Vomz! Why couldn't they just have spliced the sex scenez from Milk in there instead?!

All in all I think... the movie was funny, but just like with filmz like Napolean Dynamite and Borat, I didn't and still don't get why people are so obsessed with them. They are all funny filmz, but geeeeeebz, they are for def def defferz not as funnerz as Spring Breakdown!!!

Have any of your cholitaz seen these filmz?! What did you tink?! Tell me...NOW!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Music Video Vault

Missy Elliott feat. Ludacris & Trina -
One Minute Man"

WHAT'S THE DEAL?: Arguably one of the most the successful rapperz (and for def def defferz the most famous female rapper, sorry Lil Mama) in the game, Missy "Don't I Look Like Halle Berry Posta?" Elliott is known not only for her slick rapz and sick beatz, but her music videoz have totally made an imprint on the world of televised musica! Oh and they are fucking frightening. Back a thousand yearz ago she made that sluggish debut single "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" that had a very disturbing video of Missy E. dressed like a giant garbage bag with exploding lipz and "I'ma Rape You" glasses. Terrifiez! She has a number of other memorable videoz like the demonic "Get Ur Freak On" with its tribal wailing and dancing corpsez, "Work It" an epic anthem to shaving chochaz and speaking backwardz, "Pass That Dutch" where she's a possessed scarecrow with cannibalistic fat friendz and "Lose Control" which featurez the Aaliyah-wannabe hermaphrodite known as Ciara and Tommy Lee dancing for some reason.

"Misdemeanor Say So" has won prox a million awardz for her music/videoz and she will be releasing a new disc sometime later this year. Here's to hoping it's a success, since she's been outta da gamez for awhile now, and here's also to hoping she makes more uncomfortably elaborate music videoz to scare me! Howevz, there is probably not a single ting that Missy can come up with that can make me more awestruck than this featured video. "One Minute Man" was the follow-up to "Get Ur Freak On" and it featurez guest rapping by the love of mah gangsta life Ludacris (mmm...absolutely derriciouz!) and that walking diorama of the stagez of herpez, Trina. And durhz since it's a Missy video it's effing strange and slightly upsetting. Enjoy!

The video beginz like any great narrative should; it introducez us tot he setting that our story will be taking place in. Good storyboarding! Well, some Nubian beauty with an affinity for eye-rolling and wearing zebraz as hatz informs us hos that we have stepped our unsuspecting asses into the Get Ur Freak On Hotel. Cute homage to the previous single! It's very "Come On Over Baby (All I Want Is You)" by Christina Aguilera where she mentionz "What a Girl Wants." I love when artistz do that shiz. Well she givez this guy some sexclock or something and sendz him on his way to bone that broad he came in with.

Then we open up to the lobby of the hotel where Missy and a bunch of hawt dudez are wearing green duct tape and dancing. We are then taken on a tour of some of the finest sweetz offered at the Get Ur Freak On Hotel. The first one featurez self-beheadingz and birdcagez. I like to pretend that this room is paying tribute to "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" but that's just cuz I'm upset that Missy ripped her own head off.

The next suite is AZN-themed and featurez some martial arts inspired Jamiroquai slip/slidin'. Missy's doing some pretty sweet movez, but the sexxxy dude is oblivious. He's too busy doing push-upz and flashing his pit-pubes to notice Misdemeanor breakin' it down. Dude, she's pulling some Matrix shiz right in front of you and all you can think about is doing repz! How shellfish!

But whatevz. Now it's time for my favorite room! The Sexxxy Magic Chocolate Bar of Love Room feat. my future [non]baby's daddy Ludacris and some other hos that aren't me. I don't know what my deal iz, but Luda and his tiny little frame and huge dawg eyez and pedophile facial hair really getz my special zone going into overtime! I'm serial. He rapz a bit about how he is totez not a minute man and how he will get your oil changed and check your fluids and your transmission! Then he'll balance and rotate all tirez?! How nice of him! Sign me up! I for def def defferz need a tune-up. It's been, what...about 6 monthz?

Oh and here's a shot of Luda on a shakey shake bed with whore #1. And here he is fingering whore #2 in the hot tub. And here he is, um...drugging (serial, look @ their eyez!) and rocking whorez #3 and #4 while cleaning up their translucent jelly discharge?! Ew! Vomz a million timez. Not cuz I'm disgusted. Because I'm jealous.

Then some red lady who is dressed like a nun singz and I'm all like, "who the fuck are you?" back when I saw the video when I was in high school and figure out who she was. Then it's time for Trina and I put on my swine flu mask and triple wrap my wang. For those of you unfamiliar with her, Trina is a female rapper who's had success with singles such as "Pull Over" (that azz too fat!) and "No Panties" (she can't suck ur dick and get her lipstick smeared!). She's raunchy and gross and talkz about orgasmz every three secondz. And I love her for that. She's on some gyrating platform with these tattooed dudez dancing behind her. She's kinda wearing clothes but I'm too busy listening to her classic flow that featurez genius linez such as "1 minutes, 2 minutes, 3 minutes. Hell lot of pleasin', you gotta sleep in it," and "I'll work your ass out like aerobics." Her rhymez are sooooo epic that my two college friendz (Xtina & Geranium) neglected all of work schoolwork one night just to learn every sicknasty last syllable! I can't help but think that with the surreal look of this room and its twisted clockz and painted clouds, that it's trying to replicate some of Salvidor Dalí's artwork. Maybe Trina isn't such a C-rate rapper than no one rememberz, but rather a muse to the great artistic minds of the world! Beautiful!

The video then endz with Missy crippled on the floor and crawling her way across the lobby. Some cholitaz are dancing next to her while Trina smutz about some more, Timbaland has sex with a girl in the middle of the hallway, Ludacris does something hott and Ginuwine appearz out of nowhere to flirt with some whore. Then we check-out and make our way directly to the free clinic to see if picked anything up during our stay.


:05 - Wait. Let's rewind to the beginning of the video. The desk clerk with the dead animal sombrero; she tellz the afroplaya that it's $10 a minute, but he lookz like a $5 brotha? So does that mean he's only gonna be pumping his creamer stick for prox 30 secondz? That's probably not even enough time to walk to the room! And wait! Then she rollz her eyes as he walks away...bitch, you work in the Get Ur Freak On Hotel where you charge by the minute! You can't be disgusted if this is your everyday occupation. If it botherz you so much to see these one minute manz, then why the shit do you work in an establishment that caterz specifically to them!? I'm sure Target is hiring. Geebz! What a sour-puss Sally!

- So the afroplaya from the beginning has magically turned into longtime Missy collaborator Timbaland?! And what's seriously wrong with his girl's face?! It's puffy Renée Zellweger face! Run!

1:08 - I'm glad they didn't pretend like all the weird shit going on in this video is normal. Case in point: THIS DUDE's look of confused horror at seeing Missy dancing sanz cabeza.

2:50 -Ludacriz spills his cream on some prostiwhore. Jellerz!

3:25 - Trina's orgazmo shouting makes me instantly soft.

THE CONCLUSION: Only Missy could really create something as disgustingly explicit and uncomfortable as a "one minute man" and have it not only become a successful single, but also have the term more or less become actively assimilated into our language. Funny ting is, I always had a hunch that Missy might actually dig the chocha herself. I think it's a fair assumption, though not as painstakingly obvious as let's say...Queen Latifah. Regardless, Missy is for sho supa dupa fly and I'd let her (feat. Ludacris) work me any day of the week. Sexxx!

Monday, July 13, 2009

My Monday Muse

Amy's Diary

We all were kidz @ one time, and we all had problemz that seemed unbelievably dificil. No one uNdERstOod us! Life waz so hawd and unfair and we were les miserabez and hated everything. But, unless you're me, you've grown out of this phase and realized what an annoying prick you actually were and how easy ur life actually was. And what better way to reflect on how obnoxious and stupid you once were than to reread old journal entriez that you wrote back during those simpler dayz? Well, this entry of My Monday Muse is dedicated to the art of the childhood diary and how wonderfully embarrassing it truly is.

A long while ago, I stumbled upon a short collection of flash animations based around some chick named Amy and her silly little diary dairy entriez. Basic and candid, they frrealz had me cracking up at some partz. CHECK THEM OUT, GRINGOZ! My favo is the December 17th entry, cuz who hasn't been at a birthday party just to have it ruined by a stampede of screaming babiez?! I also remember when I was a tot, and I also had the misfortune of only being given three horsey back ridez when I clearly wanted four! BoYz ARe sO stoOoOpidZ!

Well, after looking through the glory that was this little girl's anger, fear and private thoughtz, I thought I would venture back to my pitiful high school dayz and share with all you bloggy friendz my My-Diary [entitled "No Name Face"...tanx Lifehouse (feat. my faux introspective youth)]. Written between October 2002 and August 2003, it's filled with pointless meanderingz, unvalidated anger, entries comprised solely of (Michelle Branch) song lyrix and yearning odez to the several crushez I had throughout those terrible yearz. Since I was a stupid closeted cholo, I never really referred to my crushes with proper pronouns or namez, but instead talked about da two boiz I liked with the [oh so clever] aliases X and Y. Well, I shall leave you with some of my favorite quotez extracted from this goldmine of blackmailing goodness. Share with me some of your favorite quotes from either Amy or I's journalz!

- Sigend, Josh

" Jordan told me something very important today. She told me to not get so upset over a test grade."

"Here are some more lyrics that remind me of "X". It makes me sad to read them and think about "X"... :-(

"God...I hate it when people are assholes. Stupid slut, I hope she goes online and stumbles upon this diary, so she can read about how much she blows."

"Ms. Morse broke my cello by ripping off one of the strings. YES!!!"

"I wanted to go to prom with this girl I know, but she is going with someone else. It kinda got me down, and my
friends are tellnig me to just go with "the group", but that is stupid."

Oh...we also put oranges underneath some guys car, but he didn't crush them! Asshole."

If "Y" wanted to...I would totally be having sex right now! LOL!"

"I didn't fully understand....but that was cuz I was in a sassy mood."

"Anyway, I am an idiot and left my cell phone in the kitchen, so I have to go back
there...wish me luck!....ttyl."

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Can we all just get alongz?!

One of my fav tingz in the entire mundo is to make music mixes. Be it a Sleepy Time mix, Birthday Bonanza mix, You Should Listen to this Music Cuz It's Better Than What You are Currently Listening To mix, or my 4,276th Driving mix, I am constantly making these musical collagez for mahself and my friendz. So obviously I need to have a constant stock of blank discos compactoz. Well, I went to Best Buy to but the new dredg CD (which they didn't have! Dumb choloz...) and while I was there, I picked up a circular and saw that a pack of like 50 blank Memorex CDs were available for like 5 buckz or something. So durh I bought them and took dem home and popped one into my beautiful VGN-CS110E Sony Laptop to no reaction. I tried prox 10 discs and none of them registered with my computer. Eventually a few worked, but I was researching online that some blank discz and computerz just aren't very compatible togethz. What?! Just fucking work, please. So now I have a bunch of blank CDs that don't work for me. Anyone want them? Or should I just start pelting little kidz with them. Frisbee! DIE! Ouch!

Friday, July 10, 2009

They were maneaterz!

I hope everyone had a fantastico fourth of July and celebrated our country being born or whatever that shetz about. I know I had a great weekend full of judgementz and rude burstz of lashing out @ strangerz. My wonderfully devilish friend Chris lives down by the shore and suggested that he and I head on over to this club that's on the deck of THIS gay resort/hotel/sex dungeon. So after taking a 3.5 million hour train ride (feat. 17 tranferz), I got to Asbury Park and Chris & I drank some and talked about disliking most people before heading off to the club.

Now, piggybacking off of my previous entry, let me reiterate that the margin of gay malez that I find attractive is a very small sector. I don't want too much flair, finesse, flamboyance or fuckitude in a mate...the relationship should be able to exist outside of a gay-themed zone. AKA, I want to date a normal guy. A "normal gay" [a term Chris seems to have coined]. Well, Chris and I are two peas in a very small pod when it comes to our perceptions of the gay world, so it would make sense that he and I stuck together throughout most of da noche.

As soon as we entered the fray and were slapped with our wristbandz, the very first ting I notice is a large man (a bear, if you will) rip open his beautiful plaid lumberjack vest and throw his girthy front against the bar, screaming like a small child, waving dollar billz at a completely unimpressed bartender. I immediately ran. And by "ran" I mean, walked to the bar and ordered us drankz. After paying too much for too little alcz, Chris y yo meandered our terrified asses out to the deck and then up to this balcony that overlooked the the sausage fiesta. Then our criticismz began. From above, the entire area looked like a sea of flesh grinding and shaking, looking like delicate ripplez in an ocean of depravity. A large pool was the only real divider in the bunch and I would later become surprised that not even some of the frothiest lushez attempted to gain bathroom boyfriendz via stripping and soaking their nalgaz in chlorine.

@ gay barz, everyone looks the same. Except for Chris and I. I think we were the only two queermoz in the entire club that wore clothes that fit correctly. Many guyz (skinnier than me! HATEZ IT!) were wearing jeanz tighter than the chastity belt around Jordin Porksauce's danger zone. Serial...your pelotaz must be DYING in there! They need some air...and air they got if you happened to stumble into the bathroom and see some fine gentleman hugging aggressively in the stalls. Cute! They love each other. Chris mentioned to stay away from one stall in particz cuz when he opened it, a gay zombie was just standing there staring at the wall. Dude! This isn't a glory hole (I think?), get outta da way so I can drop a log and make some lemalade! Chris and I also noticed how more than half of the gringoz in the place had bald headz. Now, to be fair, there were quite a few pepaws about, thus explaining the lack of noggin follicles...but still! There were also a bunch of younger shaving your head the cool gay ting to do?! I've heard of manscaping...but isn't that going a bit too farz?! Vomz!

Chris and I then went back inside and made more rude comments about everyone. In any situation where I am consuming alcohol, as I get drunker I get meaner and (in my head) funnier. At one point this dude with any ugly grey wifebeater walked by and I think I said something along the linez of "Stop being near me! Idiot!" He was drunkeroni and cheeze so he just smiled and started necking some dude next to him. Vomz [part deux]. I [kinda] regretted screaming at this gringo later the next day when I got on my train to go home and the same man in the same wifebeater strutted up behind me. I actually did run away this time and hid from him! Anywayz, inside was the dancy part of the club, but the music they played was that weird thump-a-thump-a-thump-a music that is repetitive and annoying and doesn't feature lyrix. NO! Play fun, stupid pop songz that I can sing along to while pretending I'm in a sexxxy music video! The best part of dancing isn't the flirting with strangaz or even dropping some sweet movez; it's eyefucking an imaginary camera and busting out every word to every song, thus impressing everyone around you yourself! Durh. Don't these cholo DJs know anytingz?!

But even though it was terrifying and there were scary gayz everywhere that would have murdered Chris or I if we weren't glued to each other's sidez, it was still fun to spend time with a fellow 'mo that I actually liked being around. Oh, and ripping on people that aren't me is my favorite sport (durhz, you're reading Josh Is Trashy, so you clearly know this 'bout me alreadyz!). If I was in the Olympic gamez, I would win gold. Or not compete cuz I'm lazycopterz.

Here is a snapshot of Chris & I's drunken night o' judgement:

Do you have any wild & crazy [kidz?!] adventurez during ur vacation?!? SHARE WITH ME!

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print.

...anybody with half an eye would see I didn't have a brain in my head.

Lately my mind has been stuck in a proverbial rut. To say I've been depresserz would be an understatement, with my thoughtz swimming through a mess of confusion about my life, my world and my future. Not to be a huge Joshie Downer, but I thought I would spend this entry discussing theez tingz that have been bothering me.

I hate to say that the root of my problemz comes from being gay, but eff it. A lot of them come from being gay. I have been alone since January and while that may not seem like long when compared with others who have being living sin compañero for yearz, for me it's a change that I am having a difficulty coping with. An overwhelming sense of loneliness seems to be branching out of my time spent alone and it's be causing me mad stress and keeping me up at night. I miss the companionship of not only friends and family that I don't see as often as I'd like, but of a more intimate partner.

Now as anyone who has done the gay club scene can tell you, there is never a lack of dudez looking for "part-time" coupling and a cheap thrill or six. But I've begun to realize that my scope for potential partnaz is a small and condensed one. Thinking about on the countless number of gayz I have met in my life, if I had to list the ones that I actually would want to have pursued a relationship with, the list would probably be...hmm...lemme think...3? 4? And thus displayz my agony: A) I hate being alone, but B) I'm picky and particular when it comez to matez. My love life is obnoxiously mutually exclusive!

I am throwing in my "Z-play" into this entry to keep it light-hearted, but my seriousness is for truth. I feel this overwhelming sense of frustration that is based around this idea that I have met all the men I will ever meet in my life that will ever make me want to be in love. And while I know I am only 23 and while I know how silly it sounds to proclaim such lofty and nutty statements like the one I just said, I still can't argue with my brain when it tells me this.

I've alwayz been a sensitive little sprout. When I was in elementary school, I remember being yanked out of morning circle to sit in the guidance counselor's office. She wasn't the normal counselor though...she was some Emotional Training counselor who's office consisted of a desk and two folding chairs shoved unfittingly into a slop closet. I would sit in one chair, and she in the other as she would make me close my eyez and imagine clouds and shet. I don't remember the point of her pseudo-hypnotism, but I think it had to do with trying to get me to stop crying all the time. And I did cry all the time. I distinctly remember having a sore throat one class and being embarrassed at being called on and having a scratchy voice. What the hell?! Who doez that? Apparently 8 year-old me, that's whooooo.

Anywayz, as I grew up I became emotionally stronger, yet I could always tell that my thought-process was also much more delicate than that of my peerz. Anxiety and self-deprecation plagued me throughout college and have begun to reach a peak during the past few monthz. I would say that my life, on paper, is pretty decent at the moment. I have two jobs (one to pay for the bills and one to give me professional experience), a great deal of loving friends, a wonderful family, my health, my education, my penis, my talents (yeah...I do have some...I think) why do I still find myself getting so darned blue? I look to my future and get scared of what it holds. But not just a "oooh...growing up is hard!" kinda scared. I mean, sometimes it's a crippling fright that causes me to bug-a-boo and start to shake. This fright leads to a slight desperation which then leadz to self-pity and loneliness. Then I get so tired from thinking too much that I eventually pass out for a day and feel better when I awake.

Now you tell me folkz: Am I crazzzy?

I also hate people to ask cheerfully how you are when they know you're feeling like hell and expect you to say 'Fine.'

Coinciding with all of this internal fistfighting, I decided that it was a good idea to start reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar cuz you know...that's not really sad or anything. Now, at first I didn't see what all the hubbub was about this book being mad depresserz...but halfway through...Forgetzaboutit! I won't write a synopsis of the book for ya, since you all should read it as soon as you finish this entry, but let's just say that I found myself feeling many of the tingz that the narrator Esther Greenwood seemz to experience throughout the expanse of the book. [Let me cut you off mid-thought: NO! I haven't tried to kill mahself, don't worry.] A troubled young girl, she is faced with the difficultiez of finding oneself happy in a cold, difficult, unwelcoming mundo. Her candid honesty was quite appealing and one of my favorite partz of the story: "...her cornhusk voice made me want to puke."

However, as I finished the book and talked to a few friends about these issuez that have been bothering me, I feel as though the "bell jar" has been lifted a bit to allow me some fresh air to breathe. While I think I could very well be crazzzy, I'm going to try and convince mahself that, yes the world may be a monstrous place, but the only thing we can do as people is deal with it and move on. I don't want to waste more time being needlessly sad. I'm dunzo.

How did I know that someday-at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere- the bell jar, with it's stifling distortions, wouldn't descend again?

Monday, July 6, 2009

My Monday Muse

Bitchez Gettin' Hurt

I swear I am actually a nice, sensitive young man. Sometimez. I promz! But I can't help that seeing dumb hos have pain inflicted on them gets my laughing gearz oiled and starts a waterfall of uncontrollable hyperventilation. But I am not a completely cold-heart snake (just look into my eyez!), for each of these six mamacitaz deserved the embarrassment and pain of their abuse! Please allow me to explain...

Grape Lady

I'm sure that this vid is nothing new to anyone reading this entry. It's like the cold sore of viral videoz...everyone sees it and keeps spreading it to otherz. Sexxxy simile! Anyway, if you are the one cholo in the world who hasn't be blessed with these video's greatness, then let me explain. Some human-sized troll doll is interviewing some normal looking lady about some vineyard somewhere. They are stomp-stomp-stomping away @ gross buckets of grapes (feat. foot fungus) and discussing some contest where gringoz could win a stay at the wine place and whatever whatevz. The troll is totez not listening and then tells her to chut up, does a little artard dance and then proceeds to cannonball her ass outta the tub and onto the punishing Earth. Upon impact the sound of a thousand strangled manatees erupts from her gut climaxing with a declaration of not being able to breath. When this happens I too am gasping for air because I have never seen something so hilarz in my entire vida. And don't call me an insensitive prick, cuz I'm not the only who has died laughing @ this skank's pain. Family Guy has parodied it, and some wannabe YouTube DJ has remixed it. Oh! And p to da s, make sure you watch till the end of the video and notice how hard the female studio anchor is trying not to laugh her nalgaz off. Don't suppress it, dear! Laugh away!

Lesson Learned?: There is no cheating in grape stomping! And don't be ugly.

Helen Keller

[UG! Queer stupid disabled embedding! Click HERE. ]

So I did stage crew for all four terrible yearz of high school and I've had and seen my fair share of dramatic "oh fuck!" moments during showtime. So and so doesn't have their right prop, or what-the-slut forgot her I understand the stress and humility that goes into live performancez. But still, if a colleague of mine was to face plant their ass off the stage like this fake blind girl does, I would bust out in tearz and heckle the shiz outta her until I myself collapsed in a puddle of exhausted panting. Sure, there are prox a bajillion and a half vidz online of people falling off stagez and sure, they all make me a little stiff. But this video in particularz is worth mentioning because, um...she's playing Helen "There's A Lot Of Shiz Wrong With Me" Keller! I know it's rude to make fun of disabled people, but I feel morally alright because luckily this thespian descent is starring someone merely portraying Ms. Keller. That's okay to laugh (for hourz) at...right. RIGHT?! What I think is awesome is how she doesn't break character and how she continuez to stumble her away back onto the stage. Hey, you could say that the fall was less a mistake and more a study of getting [really] into character! Good job nameless actress!

Lesson Learned?: Don't be respectful of inspirational dead people. You will get hurt and embarrass yourself.

Treadmill Wipeout

I know this is just a bite-sized video, but it is still quite derricious (like Shark Bites!). Treadmills are a constant source of entertainment (tanx Ok Go) and are especially wonderful when ridden by artarded cholitaz with poor balance and a running start. There is not much to say except that it's funny to watch people fall. The sound of her walrus thighz smashing against the treadmill made my heart leap up with happiness. What I love best of all (aside from the brevity of the video and the complete lack of explanation for it) is how at the end she is propelled off the machine, arms outstretched utterly failing in holding on. It reminded me of the ending to Drag Me To Hell [spoiler!] which had me in devilish tearz.

Lesson Learned: Don't work out. It's gonna hurt and you will get dragged to hell.

The Wedding Swimmer

I shouldn't be posting this video/enjoying it as much as I am, considering that my sista just got engaged and will be doing the marriage tango sometime soon, but eff it...STILL FUNNERCOPTERZ! "OMGAWDZ! It's da happiest day of mi vida! I can't wait to be married and shit babiez out and..." ::SPLASH::! Why would you have a wedding @ the tippy end of stage overlooking a faux-lagoon inspired pool quarry?! That's just axing for troublez and, troublez is what this blushing bride got. And by "blushing" I mean "soaked and unhappy." So many awesome tingz take place in this video: A ruined wedding, a guy falling on his face, a wet bitch, wet religion, a million girls shouting "OH MY GAWD!"...priceless. I like to pretend that the wedding was thus called off and no one got married and everyone was sad and went home crying.

Lesson Learned: Don't ever get married (or be in a healthy, happy, loving relationship) because it's gonna end up in pain and it hurts all the sad, lonely, depressed singlez (aka me) out there that want everyone to be as equally miserable as them.

Scarlet Takes a Tumble

This is the quintessential "laughing @ someone else's pain" video that needs to be highlighted on my blog, even though everyone and their dead grandmaz have already seen it. Why, Scarlet? Why does it seem like a good idea to scale that table, groaning under your girth, in those fabo shoez? Like, I totally understand the desire to record urself pulling some wannabe Dreamgirls shit and pretend ur Beyoncé Jennifer Hudson and everyting (I've done it myself), but why is it necessary to thrust ur business up in the air, on top of that flimsy ass table?! it can go on YouTube and I can laugh @ I get it. Whoever posted this version of video deservez a million hugz for playing it in slow motion at the end and making me hysterically cry in the coffee shop I am sitting in. I slightly feel guilty for laughing, but then remember the time that I went to go see "Sweeney Todd" in theaters and tripped and fell walking up the stepz and the entire auditorium (including mahself) erupted in cruel laughter. It's because of that that I feel validated in losing my lunch over dear Scarlet's misfortune. Oh! And I adore the non-stopping witch cackling that comez from this lady after watching Scarlet's crushing cataclysm.

Lesson Learned: Don't be a dumb fuck.


HAHHAHAHAAHAHahahhdsfdjsdhfsfhsdjfhshhehreahrheaj. I. AM. IN. TEARZ. For durhz I have seen this video prox two thousand timez before, but it is still the greatest thing on the planet, even after years of viewing. According the Microsoft Power Point intro, this dog-faced gringa was bitching about some dead chick and THC and blah blah...::POW!:: For some ole reason, granny here got her knickerz all tied up and let that hoss have a punch to da puss. I not only love that wrinkled fist boom boom powing that lady's noggin, but I adore the receiver'z look of utter shock afterwardz. Ho! What do you expect. You gonna talk shit, you gonna get smacked. That's why I do all of my trashing via the interwebz...ok well, I do it in person too, but I don't let my subjects hear my verbal assault. Geebz lady, get ur gossiping under control. Oh, and let's all acknowledge the genius of whoever edited the video to rapidly play the abuse over and over. My bowelz seriously hurt now.

Lesson Learned: Read Josh Is Trashy everyday to understand the intricaciez and techniquez of talking like a hateful garbage-mouth gringo. This here is an expert writing this shet!

Do you know of any hilariouz videos that I forgot?! Put the dignity and moralz away and joined the depraved pool of insensitivity that is my blog!