Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Q+A! (the Twitter Fiesta Thunderclap Showdown Remix)

What I lurrrve about Twitter other than being able to randomly post stupid shet that nobody carez about, is that I can legally stalk celebrities throughout my day via the posts that they [aka their assistance that they force] write themselvez! What I especially enjoy is when certain famous peepz will invite followers to send them questions that they will later answer on the site. Well, in training to becoming a sexxxy and important member of the pop culture elite, I thought that I would open up a forum of preguntaz from my Twitter followers and thus answer said questionz on my blog. Twitterbugz Enrico, David, Jere, Chris, John & Josh B. all obliged with some grrreat, thought-provoking inquiriez! [How obvious is it that I couldn't tink of sumfing to write about today?]

If you could relive one single day from your past exactly as it was the first time, what day would you choose to experience?
I was just talking about this sorta thing with a friend of mine a few dayz ago! I would want to relieve my freshmen year of college. It was such an exciting [and overtly sexxxual] time for me filled with many vundervil [read as: drunken] memories. I made some great friendshipz and learned a lot about mahself. Partiez, early morning movie nightz, everyone having their dorm roomz open during all hours of the day, homework that I seemed to never do but always somehow got accomplished, trips down to the food court to eat painful mac & was all quite a blast! If I had to choose one day, I would pick my one during my first weekend @ school when I got hammered with my soon to be BFFz for the first time. I tink it was between my second & third vomming in my new friend's wastebasket that I realized "Wow...this is a time to cherish."

What's your shoe size?
Last time I checked it was like 9 and a half. Isn't there some correlation to the size of shoez and the size of a fella's weiner schnitzel? I dunno...I like to measure my business by the size of candy barz. Pay Day KING SIZE comin' @ youuuuu live!

What was your first kiss like?
It was muy romantico aka not at all. Here are the reasonz why:
1. It took place in the back of my friend Oliver'z car while she was driving with a passenger in the seat nexxxt to her. I was in the back with a friend of mine who I knew was gay.
2. Shetty pop muzak was blaring and piercing my earz.
3. We were on our way back from seeing people get their bodies ripped to shreds tanx to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
4. Before that we were @ some goofy themed school dance [aka Lame City USA].
5. Since it was mah first time to makerouterz wit something other than my hand, I was terrible and kept clanking my teefz on his. Oh! And my tongue was worthless and sat like a wet slug in my mouf. It sadly wasn't until college [see question #1] that I learned the art of tonsil hockeyz.

If people have flavors, what would you taste like if I licked you? How does that compare to Enrico's flavor?
Hmmm...I would hope something derriciouz like pink Fla.Vor.Ice or caramel creeeemez! Yumz! However knowing my luck, I'd for probz taste like sumfing vile like that paste that accumulatez on teenagers' retainerz when they're not properly cleaned or sweaty locker room underooz or mushroomz. And how would I know how da E. Copterz tastez?!?

What were the most substantial events in your life and how did they shape you?
I personally feel that I have yet to have these quintessential "life-changing" momentz yet. But I do have an inkling as to what they will be when they finally do happen:

1. When I get voted off third on American Idol and have the judgez cry fowl while applauding my bravery and genuine sweetness.
2. When I win the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for the big screen adaptation of Forgive Durden's "Razia's Shadow."
3. When I start my first ever nationwide poetry tour with my fellow talented literary geniuses Enrico & Julia.
4. When I do my first controversial B&W scantily clad Rolling Stone cover [feat. smeared lipschtick on my face, bloodshot peeperz, my veinz popping outta mah skin and a bottle of rum in my hand].

If you could host a dinner party with 4 people from history, who would you invite and why?
Well, I would have to invite the four most important peepz in the history of the universe: Rhonetta, Tatiana Del Toro, Mary Roach & Darwin Reedy. Girls' night! We would discuss the latest fall fashionz [sexxxy & different], how to be a supastar without having to drink Paula Abdul's bubbly water and which are the best techniquez with which to set the city on fiya. Of course we would have to take a break @ some point and admire Tatiana's impressive portfolio and Darwin's novella manuscript. Oh! And if we're mad luckerz, Mary just might perform all of Shakespeare's "A Midsummers' Night Dream" using only her animated spazmatic body and her ten bajllion voicez! BFFLz!

What food did you hate as a kid that you like now?
Artichokez used to taste like a bile deluxe meal when I was a little tot, but now I tink they are quite derriciouz. Especially in dip! Why herro tastebudz...let me introduce to you heaven.

How do you feel about "3"? Will it ever reach #1?!
I was just thinking about this two nightz ago when Perez Hilton was barfing on and on about "3" on his Twitter. I am actually unsure of how well it will do. I tink that there is a lot of buzzzzz around the song and that once it is available for download, people are gonna flock to dat shiz like white on Evan Rachel Wood's face. I tink it could be the next "Party In the U.S.A." and debut really high due to everybody buying it. Howevz...Brit Brit is really touch-and-go with her singlez. She's only had 7 top tenz in the past decade and only 2 #1's. Seemz like a lot of her tunez don't get the radio representation that other artists get. Though Circus did get a lot of who knowz? Wow...I just read that over and I am a pop culture NERD FESTIVAL! Anyone else tink I belong werking in the music industry?!

What's the best?
You. Yes, you are simply the best [better than all the rest].

Monday, September 28, 2009

My Monday Muse

As you all know, I lurrrve music and lurrrve to record mahself screaming like a dirrty banshee monster singing in mi coche to rando pop songz (feat. posting them on mah blog). I also am a semi-enthusiastic fan of the music of Mariah "Naked Ice Cream Vendor on TRL" Carey. She has made some of the greatest pop muzak of the past two decades and she recorded one of my favo cheesy love songz ever, "Never Too Far." She's also absolutely nutz and therefor givez mah pop culture-addicted mind a constant fix of beautiful kookiness and mental instability. And since this blog is my third jerb and my reeeeeeeeason for breeeeeeeathing, I thought I'd make today's Monday Muse a combination of these three facets of my being and create a double feature highlighting two of mah favo singerz of all time murdering cooing the timeless tunes of M. Carey to the hilt! Today's first muse iiiiiiz....

Valentina Hasan

Yay! As are most of my Monday Muses, Valentina Hasan was discovered by mah college friends (Sam & Xtina wut wut!!!) during one of our many nightz of drunken non-studying. She was a contestant on Bulgarian Idol and won over mi corazon with a fantasitco rendition of "Without You" but since she's dope like dat, she for totez gave the song a wild ass Bulgarian mega remix twist and renamed it "Ken Lee." It had tearz my eyez and piss en mis pantalones:

Belt it ho! She rocks that shiz harder than Scarlett Johansson rockz [non]acting! Though it is obvious why Valentina is a goddess on Earth and deservez a cozy place in your heart between Rhonetta and GellieMan, let me recap the reasonz why she is better than you:

Her lyrical stylingz...durh! - "Tulibu dibu douchooooooo" & "Ken lee mejor moooooore" are genius and I hope that one of deeez days that she records this shet, gets songwriting creditz for it and then wins the Grammy for Song of the Year. She deservez it! Try not to sing it for the rest of the day YOUR LIFE!

2. Her confidence - You must take note [@:11] of how after the Bulgarian Paula responds with confusion at her song choice, Valentina lookz her dead in da peeperz and yes "Yeah" with the most I'm-confident-and-about-to-blow-your-fucking-head-off-via-my-talent tone of voice. Supreme self-assurance is a vital trait in any future wife of mine, so +1 point for you Valentina! Grrrrrrrrl knowz she's hot shit and that ain't nobody out there who can touch her goodiez.

3. Her smoked salmon dress - It's dinner time as I'm writing dis! I'd eat that outfit faster than a hungry grizzly bear!

Valentina was so amazing that they couldn't even put her on the show in fear of all the other contestantz committing suicide out of jellerzy! However, they did have the bitch back during a future program to show all those amateurs how to really bring da house down. She might have messed up her lyrics during the chorus, but the audience [feat. me in front of my lappy] was sure there to help her out!

And who could top dis beautiful deity of glory and style?! Answer: dis guy...

Kim Dong-Won

Firstly, I have to tank one of my bestest friendz in the whole mundo, Enrico from Hotel Tuesday, for prying open mis ojoz to this euphoric delight. If I wasn't a taken man [I lurrrve you Robert Downey! What do you want for dinna tonight?], I would totez fly my love-sick azz on over to Korea to do the nasty nasty with this talented effing twinkfest! What took place when Kim Dong-Won [that fittingly soundz like "Don Juan"] sang his interpretation of M. Carey's "Touch My Body", entitled as "Tuts My Barreh" in what I assume to be a big-time fancy schmancy recording studio? Well, check it the fuzz out and make sure you have a rope tied up on your head to keep your jaw from smashing to the floor:

YAAAAAAAAAAAY for talent! OMGAWDZ. Don't choo just love him? Take note everrrrrrbody! You want get in mah heart pantz? Do this performance verbatim (feat. semi-dance movez) and my underpantz will fly away faster than Britney Spears' during a vehicular exit.

I'd give anyting to have him be a lump on me! Sexxxy! His lyrical rewriting is perfection and my mind is racing with the daydreamz of how he and I could spend our vidaz togethz! I can only wish that there will be a) a camel up a hill; and b) that I can off this Gong Lee ho so I can be with Kim! What would I give to be up his BeeGees like a windy interview? I would for totez honk my berra tara den my favorite cheese [which is Manchego for those curious]. To have the chance to carress him like a tropical priest...I'd do pretty much anyting!

And any slutz dat try and mess wit my man are frrrealz gonna get some asbestos flaygonned on them! Step off hoz! He's mine [en mis sueños]! Oh Kim! I for def def defferz cop dat fever for you hundredentu! I DO lurrrve your cock and want nuffin more than to feed you water dessertz! Derriciouz and non-fattening, just like my undying love for you! Sadly though, I have to sit here and wait for the day when we can run a mother break a bottle sicker run day boo together into the sunset. Heartbreak!

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Holiday Magik!

So yesterday I came home from work to find a loverly package waiting on the kitchen table. Since I live in a constant state of doubting whether people actually like me or are just pretending so they can make fun of me behind mi espalda, I was shocked & elated to receive a regalo! The package was from my bloggy friend Steven over at Vicious.Unrepentant.Bitter.Old.Queen and when I tore it open I was greeted with a fantastico cap for the upcoming cold weather! It's beautiful and I couldn't get over how finely knitted it was! Steven! U iz a professional! I bet I would have to pay $30 buckaloonz to get sumfing like dis @ the mall. I absolutely lurrrve it and it is orange which is wonderful because I am desperately trying to include more citrus colorez into mah wardingrobe.

So after I was done crying with joy...I got to tinking. The holiday season is upon us, and I know that I love to give I thought I'd raise a proposal to you bloggy readerz:

How do you peepz feel about putting together a list of us who wanna be thoughtful/nice/festive and we can randoly pick someone else's name out of a virtual hat and buy/make/steal a gift for that peep! Then everyone can send me a pic of themselves with the gift and write a little paragraph about how much they love it and I can post it on Josh Is Trashy!!! Lovez dis idea? Hatez dis idea?! Lemme know! And if any of you peepz have contact with bloggy readers who seem to hate me aka never stop by (Craig...Nathan...Dave S...HURUMPH!), spread the word to them too! Let's care about one another. NOOOOOOW!

PS...even if you are parttime poster or whatevz! Join up! It will be teh funz!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Ten Rando Tingz

So pickin' up where my dopey azz left off last week...

Ten Rando Tingz From Around My House!

Medicine Cabinet - When I went off to college, my mother was positive that without fail I would catch an illness my first day and expire before Thanksgiving break if I wasn't properly equipped with every medicine that Rite Aid had to offer. I remember moving into college my first day and mi madre in all her beautifully maternal glory pulling out a jumbo size plastic bag of pillz/band-aids/sore throat spray and lobbing it @ my face. I soon learned the different usez for Ibuprofen, Aspirin and Tylenol while appreciating the unique benefits that daytime and nighttime cough syrup both have. And who could forget the pounds of throat lozengez?! Not only did she give me prox 5 bagz of vitamin C infused organic so'n'so fruit dropz the first day, but every time she would come to visit [prox once every two monthz] she would give me another bag. Hence the million bags in the upper left corner.

After I graduated college, I proceeded to build my mini pharmacy by stealing shampoo and soap samplez from hotelz, swindling teef-whitening jizz from a friend of mine and randomly procuring GALLONZ of shaving cream that I will never use. So if you ever need spray-on SPF 15 sunblock or expired RX-strength acne medicino, then I'm totez your hookup!

My Car - Aw. Clint has been with me since I started driving when I was 18. He originally belonged to my high school friend Brian's uncle or some shiz. Anywayz, mis padres used him for a few years before putting his glorious keyz in my mitts when I finally got my license. He's a '91 Subaru Loyale and he leakz oil like Pamela Anderson leakz bodily fluidz. Tanx to his constant leakage though, I've had to become an expert @ checking mah coolant, oil, power steering nectar and automatic transmission syrup! I'm a mechanic!

Oh, and you may wonder why Clint is all ghetto-cholitofied with his multiple colorz. Well, it all started with the picture right below this which I will esplain sooon. Wellz, my college friend Xtina and I were driving to a local dollar store to buy some cheap scotch tape. We were listening to some tunez and as I merged into the right lane so I could turn into the parking lot, this douchesicle didn't stop in time and raped the ass of my car with his ugly and unnecessarily shiny jeep. I immediately started crying and then the kid gets out of his car and within prox two seconds his entire extended family was surrounding me berating me for no reason at all. All I had on mah side was XTINA and this cockface had his fucking great grandparents there yelling @ me! Oh, and his grandma had a cartoon puppy umbrella. SHE'S YELLING @ ME WHILE POINTING HER PUPPY UMBRELLA @ MY FACE. Oh, and it was raining and I was in my PJz. So. Sad.

Anywayz, the cop came and somehow it got labeled as my fault cuz I tink the kid gave him a rim jerb or sumfing in the police car. Then I had to pay a grand to get the back of my car fixed. They said if I paid an additional like $300 they could paint my car's azz back to it's original color, to which I said "Ha. Fuck off you goomba. Gimme dem keeeeeeyz!" [note: not actually what I said]

Celebrity Collage - My friends (Xtina & Sam) & I had an active social life in college. I swear! We went out to parties frequently. Got drunk all the time and made constant idiotic mistakez that caused more problemaz than we'd care to remember. But during our Junior year, when we finally moved out of the dorms and into our own house, we started taking up new hobbiez. Basically that meanz that we watched a lot of Discovery Health Channel and American Idol. Aside from that we ate a lot of Fla.Vor.Ice and slept. But then after we explored those options to the hilt, we decided to become artists and decorate our house! Luckily for us, our parents all seemed to acquire a large collection of shitty gossip 'zines [I'm looking @ you Ok!, Star and Life & Style!], so we thought "Hey! Chut up! Let's make celebrity posterz that highlight the ugliest and lamest famoso peepz dat we lurrrrrrrrrrve to hate!"

So we did. We added everybody you could imagine! We spent weeks making the collage and as mentioned earlier, I ended up having to pay of a thousand buckaloonz to pay off car damage that was inspired by retrieving supplies for this masterpiece. Small price to pay for perfection though! When we finished, we hung it up in our living room and it became a beacon of amazement to guests who would come over, look @ it, look @ us uncomfortably and then walk out. When Idol came on, we printed out pix of the all the finalist and created a bulletin board of all their faces. When they got axed, we would violently draw all over their facez and make fun of any minute flaw that they dare showed to us. Weeeee! When we all graduated, we took the big celebrity poster and cut it up into three sections so we could each have a piece!

Graduation Gift - OMGAWDz! So when my dopey ass finally was finished sucking & blowing my way through college [I kid! I kid! right?], my sister bequeathed me this werk of art as a gift. She was so surprised that I didn't drop out to fulfill my childhood dreamz of being a prostiwhore [see previous entry, pweaze] that she decided to make me some art so I could lie to the world and tell everyone that I'm cultured.

We all [should] know that hi hermana is greatly talented in the wayz of visual artz, and this once again proooovez why she has more talent in her eyebrow hair than I do in el todo del mi cuerpo! The person in the drawing is modeled after me on my sixteenth burfday when no one came to my fiesta and I cried for three days into a bowl of cheese dip. Don't I look sad?! Don't my breastz look tender?!

Sean Preston Federline Spears - Yes! The talk of the tabloidz and Britney Spears' beef-jerky spawn livez in mah bedroom! Oh I'm just kidding! That's not a real little gremlin! That's just a doll. Two Helloweenz ago, my friendz and I were invited to go to a costume party that my sister was planning. Well, as you would guess from the aforeposted celeb collage, I decided to go as Paris Hilton while my bffl Sam went as Brit Brit (feat. preggerz). You can savor over our beauty HERE.

I basically wore Sam's normal day clothez while holding a purse and one of those free dogz you get from Victoria's Secret [Tinkeeeeeeeerrrrrbeeeeeeeeeell!]. But my hair is a disgusting shit brown color! Not the same as Paris' golden lockz of man chowda love! So of course we headed on over to Goodwill and I bought the most beautiful [read as: cheapest] wig that I could find! While we were there, Sam decided that to really pull off her great look, she needed to hook herself up wit a baby. We rummaged through the toy section and found Sean Preston, in all his aborted glory, waiting for our loving arms. Throughout the party he was stepped on, soaked in alcohol and pelted against the ceiling by a guy dressed up as Jebus Christ...JUST LIKE A REAL CHILD! I later went on to win Best Costume [oh yes tank you, tank you. You can stop cheering for me now.] and I accepted my trophy aka bottle of vodka humbly before taking a shot or six of it. Anywayz, when we moved out of our college house, Sam hid Sean Preston in my bagz so when I got to my current residence, I was greeted with this smelly, gross, dirrty piece of shit doll bundle of joy! He's mah baby and I do what I want with him.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


I had a rough day @ work. I got stuck @ that crappy Intern computer that refuses to work and can't handle YouTube videoz or email. Of course this coincidez with my boss' wishes for me to search for performance clips for one of our clientz, resulting in me waiting 20 minutez for one effing video to load. I also woke up feeling groggy and sickly and even though I feel better now (tanx to downing 5 Emergen-Cz) it was still a bumma to wake up to a stuffy nose and a headache. Booo! Anywayz, while I was watching that damned spinning YouTube loading icon, I started reflecting on what my occupational aspirations were when I was a youthful tot. So therefor, I thought that dis herre installment of Q+A! should be...

What Did You Want To Grow Up To Be When You Were A Kid?

Nowadayz I feel like I have a grounded sense of what I want to accomplish en mi vida. Music publicity and/or book publishing are two careerz that I am for def def defferz working towardz. I would obviously like to become a published poet @ some point, but that won't happen till I'm either over 30 or dead, whichever comez first. Being a famous blogger is also idealistic, but that shiz is for totez not gonna happen [fishing for complimentz!]. But what about when I was a little goomba? What aspirationz did I hold for mi futura?! What did I crave wildly to become???


Not creative, I know. But I tink that every child wanted to be a teacher @ one point or another. I used to have pretend crushez on my lady teacherz that I later realized was just me wishing that I was in their shoez and had the respect and power over a crowd of impressionable children. Someone piss you off? Beat the shit outta them Banish them to the office! Having a bad day? Force the children to rewrite all of Les Miserables! Feeling unwanted and worthless? Judge the students with harsh gradez and unfair criticismz! Yes, the tyrannical power that a teacher would have over his/her class alwayz appealed to me.

But only elementary school...get into those higher gradez and peepz start standing up for themselves and I'm not looking to start a fight. I'm just looking to bitch at those who are defenseless in an attempt to mask my own selfish desirez & insecuritiez! Weeeeee!


I really can't seem to fathom why I ever fancied the notion of being a dentist. Like, I'm not terribly disgusted by looking down people's gargantaz, but it currently doesn't seem like a hobby that I'd like to pick up. I vaguely remember when I was a little kid that there was this assembly @ school where some choloz from a local dentistry came in to like teach us how to keep our chopz clean, or sumfing. Now, I never realized dental hygiene was part of the elementary school curricular, but I guess it must have been. An besidez, I'd rather spend my afternoon in the dark auditorium learning how to floss [already know how to!] than spend it in the classroom hearing about dead presidentz and math shit [snorrrrrrrezzzzz].

I digress though! I remember after the assembly, my teacher handed out some dopey pamphlets about brushing yo teefz and there were cartoons on it of a dentist fighting some grotesquely drawn blob monsta that was supposed to be "plaque" with a toothpaste cannon and an over-sized brush. It seemed heroic and a great way to get people to praise you, so of course I filed dentistry away as a plausible future occupation/method to get famous and have people lurvvve me.


Yes, I'm serious. When I was a little tot in middle school, I had the sick and morbid aspiration to sell my stupid azz out on the street. With my G-string in hand, some sparkly lip chap on my puss and my self-respect crying away in the gutter, NUFFIN' could stop me from taking over the world [read as: the corner]. And what you may ask led me to desire such an odd source of income? Television. Seriously...television. Okay, okay...I know. Everyone alwayz seems to blame every minute problem in the world on TV, but in dis case, it's true! MTV one time long, long ago had a documentary on that followed around this flippant little pixie of a dude who was what they call a "male escort." Basically that meanz "cum slave with no self-appreciation." The documentary showed the guy going out with ugly jerkoffz, getting arrested, crying and more or less just having a miserable existence. And in my wittle 13 year-old eyez, all I could tink of was "Wow, that could be me!"

Lucky for me, I didn't have the pelotaz to run away from home and evolve mahself into a streetwalker. As I got older, I eventually grew a brain and lessened my desires to be just a common stripper. Lately though, that dream too has diminished. Now all I do is dance around my empty house to "She Wolf" in my underooz and that pretty much kicks my fix to be a promiscuous slut. Oh, the wonderz of being a child. So many dreamz, so little time!

So what did you sexxxy readerz want to be when you were still picking your nose and crapping your pantz? Tell me your childhood ambitionz!

Monday, September 21, 2009

My Monday Muse


Firstly, I HATE breakfast. Wafflez, pancakez, french toast...VOMZ! Having too much sweetness en la mañana makes me want to die. Other mornin' type delicaciez like eggz, cereal and pork roll (one of my favo tings en the entire mundo!) I lurrrrrve, but will only have after noon. For some reason, eating before then makes me hate myself and feel sick. Whatevz! I personally tink it is mah body's ingrained attempt at keeping me pleasantly thin emaciated. However! Denny's has tried to toy with mi corazon by creating a breakfast soooo irresistible that I just might have to break my eating routine. They have created the world's greatest fruit-based being [sorry Richard Simmonz] and put his sexxxy ass on top of a stack of otherwise disgusting pancakez! Try not to drool all over tu computadora!

Wait...whhaaaaaaaaaat?! Twas all a filthy bastard lie?! GRAND SLAM BREAKFAST?!? Ew! I'm gonna beef everywhere! Ug! NannerPuss is the only kind of breakfast that I would ever eat...poppy music theme song and puppetry! That's how I want to start my morningz. Apparently I'm not the only artard in the world that wantz to be in a bestiality relationshit with Mr. Puss! There are prox a million remixez and reduxez on the interwebz that people have done to honor this breakfast deity:

Coolest. Baby. Ever.

Demonic Dance Remix!

The Assassination of NannerPuss [aka the worst day of mah life]

[RIP NannerPuss]

Saturday, September 19, 2009

My wonderous talent through the agez...

Ok, let's just cut to the fudging chase, 'kay? We all know that it's mah main goal in life to be famous. I know that it is terribly self-serving and kind of vapid, but it's the truth, so fucking get over it. As you also may know, I have a (not so) secret and completely unreachable dream of being on American Idol one day and dazzlin' America with my charming personality, well-sculpted side-profile, quirky yet abrasive sense of humor and my mediocre awe-inspiring singing voice. Any intelligent person [read as: anyone that regularly readz Josh Is Trashy] will be completely aware of the fact that I am vainly prone to posting videos of my majestic singing voice.

But let me tell you cholitoz and amigaz sumfing innnnnnneresting! I was performing before my ballz voice even dropped! In fifth grade, my elementary school had one of those not-mandatory-but-everyone-is-involved-anyway class musicalz. It was some D-rate EdUcATiOnAL bullshit play about Johnny Appleseed and it was my effing dream to play the square dance announcer. I would get mah own muthashitting solo! Well, during my audition I choked up and started crying IN FRONT OF EVERYONE and I tink I ran off stage and cried in my dad's arms for three dayz. However, everyone felt bad for me and my sensitive soul, so they took the song and split it into two partz, one for me and one for the kid that actually was good and deserved it. It was the first time in my life that I got what I wanted via tearz. It was a lesson and craft I learned to use throughout the rest of my life. Want sumfing bad enough? Cry and seem unstable and you'll get it. Well, lucky for you folkz, I was able to find the only video and I put that shiz up on YouTube. Please take note of the overallz I'm wearing that are four sizez too big for me Oh and also notice how when I say "Circle to the left..." I actually motion my hands to the right. I waz a moron. I come in at prox :55:

And then I had a dry spell. I went through middle school and high school with nary another solo or performance. I joined the high school select choir chamber singerz blah blah whatever...but there I just couldn't find a role that really moved me. My thespian soul couldn't be wasted on the likez of Damn Yankees or How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying [aka, I was too of a wimpsicle to audition]. Well, graduation was breathing down my taint and my friends and I put together a chorale arrangement of that old people song "Leavin' On a Jet Plane." And mis amigoz lied to me and said that I would be great singing the first solo! So I did and I tink I dirtied mis pantalonez. OMGAWD I was singing in front a thousand peepz! Scary! Here it is...

YAY! And now here I am...singing Lady GaGa and Michelle Branch songz on the dusty couch in my living room and posting the videoz on mah blog. I'm still holding out for my breakout role [read as: someone make me famous! please?] and spending my time dreaming about my future success (instead of actually working to achieve it!). Hope I haven't ruined your computer speakerz via my wailingz! Lovez ya!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

I'mma Let You Finish

So as you all should know, Sunday was when the much-improved MTV Video Music Awards aired. Stellar performancez, emotional speeches and eye water-leaking tributez made it one of the best VMAs since forevz. Well, what really made the show memorable was the stupid shitstorm that Kanye "Anus-Face" West threw after America's sweethawt Taylor Swift won Best Female Video. He catapaulted his body onto the stage and ripped the mic outta her hand. He then started word-vomming all over the stage about how Deena Jones should have won and blah blah blah. It was all dramz and everyone was bugging-a-boo about it later. Here is the clip but I apologize in advance if the evil anti-fun police over @ MTV come around and tear it down. Copy-write enfringment? Oh chut up and loosen up your buttonz, tightwadz.

Well, everyone hatez Kanye now and lurrrrzes Taylor even more so whatevz! And out of the wreckage that was this stupid stunt, sumfing wonderful has blossomed. And dat vundervil ting is my new online obsession: I'mma Let You Finish. Finally a website existz to crack jokez at the expense of piece of shet Kanye's stupid butt. Take a gander! My favo onez are here as followz:

I actually own Queen of the Damned on DVD. It's terrible but it's also AALIYAH, so durhz I have gotz to havez it.

Yeah. WTF Lady GaGogglez?! Looking like an internal organ is not classy or creative. It's just stupid and gross.

I'm a huge effing nerd brigade for a) understanding dis and b) agreeing wholeheartedly.

So which onez do you cholitoz lurrrve? And if you get borrred with that shiz, then check out the highlightz from the Video Music Awardz aka Beyonce being awesome, Taylor pretending she's in Once, P!nk doing singing acrobatix a million milez in the air and Lady GaGa dying.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Ten Rando Tingz

Time to start another semi-regular blog entry! Now that I have a grown-up person phone (feat. texting keyboard, high-definition camera and touch screeeeen), I've been taking photoz like mad. But what for?! Mah vida is terrible and no one wants to hang out with me in person, so who am I gonna show 'em tooooo?! Well, I thought I'd start a series of postz where I share some randomly themed photoz so all of mah bloggy friendz can look @ them with disinterest and sigh over how desperate I am for love and/or attention.

Today'z theme is...

Ten Rando Tingz From Around My House

Cowboy Hat - So back in mah younger, wilder Nueva Nueva dayz (circa 6 monthz ago) I frequented this gay watering hole on Christopher Street called Duplex. I've had many fun/crazzzy/terrifying experiencez there, but one of the most memorable momentz is summed up in dis sombrero. I was schwasted with mi amigo Bill one night and we wound up @ Duplex around 1 in the morning. Being the drunken flirt I am, I took note of gentleman sitting at the end of the bar. He was wearing a pair of aviatorz and this here cowboy cap. Being the neglectful friend I am, I abandoned Bill to accost this older sir. Pepawz are one of my biggest vicez and I proceeded to talk his ear off for an hour and a half. He seemed amused with my drunken tirade and bought me a drink I didn't want, but of course consumed with much vigor. I think I started talking about pop muzak and seeing as though he knew nuffin about the big band renovated musical stylingz of Christina Aguilera's Back to Basics or the hilarious irony of Carey Hart being in P!nk's "So What" music video I lost interest in the convo and told him I wanted to leave. As I was leaving he handed me his hat (um...tanx?) and eyeglasses. I proceeded to wear both of them for the rest of the night morning, while repeatedly nforming Bill, who wanted to punch me, of how F-R-E-E both gifts were. I had mah picture taken @ four en la mañana in the middle of Times Squared wearing both articles. The pic is now infamous [among my FBook picturaz].

Stolen Parking Sign - Pennington, NJ is the standard suburban meetz urban town of America. Everything centerz around the high school (GoOoOoOO BullDAwGz!) and all the extracurricular crap that goez along with it. There are prox a million pizza places for kids to go get fat in after school, a large grocery store where every adolescent, give or take one or two, works in, gas stationz to illegally buy cigz in and miles of sidewalk for aimlessly walking and gossiping on. Yes, it's where I spent the most gawd awful, depressing, worst fucking best four yearz of mi vida. Well, each May, the main street of this heavenly town gets shut down to traffic and is crammed full of food stands, face paint and tents selling stupid crafty shit. Children are everywhere, loud music blarez from mediocre bands that our parents put together in a dire attempt to stay young, dogs are taking dumps anywhere and everywherez while disgruntled teens (aka me and mah friendz) traverse the debauchery judging every single ting in sight. This here sign I ripped the eff off a telephone pole to remind me of how beautiful magical a holiday Pennington Day is. For serial, anyone want sumfing ridiculous and borrring to go to and blog about? Come with me nexxxt May. P-Day is for def def defferz not to be missed.

HIV Test - I know this photo is blurry and you can't read da wordz scribbled on it. I'm still figuring out my camera phone, but at the moment I'm too fucking lazzzy to retake the picture correctly. This gorgeously beautiful piece o' paper is what I received after getting my bloodz tested for the HIV early in the summer. I had a semi-irrational scare earlier this year in regards to this nightmarish monsta and I forced my best friend Val to hurry her nalgaz down from Boston to get tested with me. We went to a terrifying FREE clinic in Trenton and got tested. The little check in the first box meanz I am negative. I drowned my counselor in tearz of relief when she told me the outcome and then I taped the results up on the wall next to my bedroom's door, so I look @ it each day and remember that no matter how desperate I get, I should never start charming trouser snakes for $$$.

Worry Dollz - January of last year was absolutely hellish for me. I started my jerb in Nueva Nueva, had to get used to an exhausting daily commute and the shift from working three days a week at the restaurant to working seven days split between both places. I also had my heart brutally and unflinchingly ripped out of my chest and stomped on by mah ex. I didn't eat for a week and barely functioned for a good month. The night of mi corazon's execution, I called my good friend Jess and she had me stay with her for the night. Wellzzz, a week later she gave me deez cute wittle Guatemalan Worry Dollz. Apparently they are supa special little iconz that someone with a lot of life stressorz [see: me] can use to help pull some of their anxiety out of themselvez. You are supposed to put a worry or antagonizing bullshiz issue into the doll and focus all your attention on removing it from yourself and placing it in one of these tiny little figurez. Then you're supposed to put it under your pillow or bury it or sumfing. I didn't get that far in the directionz! Whooopz! Anywayz, it was still a sweet gesture from mah amiga Jess. I attempted to name each of the dollz after American Idol contestantz that I liked, but I lost track after getting to Amy Adams and Lisa Leuschner!

High School Yearbook - Yeah. That's me. Bottom row, third from the left. I pseudo-dated the girl to the left of my picture. The girl above me is my friend Laura that I've mentioned several timez before. Oh, and why yes...I do look like the guy that made your sammich @ QuikChek this afternoon. I have nuffin more to say other then that I despise everyone that knew me during my teenage yearz who said nary a ting to me about how terrible my shoulder-length hair looked. For a closer up picture of my hideous senior portrait, click HERE [although I hold no responsibility for my crackerjack face blinding your ass]!

That's all for now folkz...tune in next week to see the remaining five rando pix!

Monday, September 14, 2009

My Monday Muse

King Curtis

As we all know, the best show in the entire world is the perpetually judgmental bitchfest that is known as Wife Swap. Every episode there are torrential meltdownz and shouting and crying and storming out and all that dramatic good stuff that pumpz mah vida with joy. There is nuffin' I like more than seeing people force their rigid and uncompromising lifestylez on other unwilling peepz [see: my blog]!

I've spent the past two weeks scouring YouTube to try and find as many full episodes of this trainwreck program as possible. Coincidentally, my good friend Laura posted a clip from one episode on mah FBook page, and let me just say. I. Am. In. Love. Ok maybe not in love, since this week's muse is an eight year-old, but I do appreciate his existence (which is more than I can say about most people).

Let us get some factz straight about our beloved King Curtis. He is a man of his word and a man of his soon-to-be morbidly obese stomach. Don't cross his grease-streak or else you might be trampled over when he stormz off to his bedroom in a fit of unvalidated frustration (his main source only source of ejercicio). Never to have his culinary tastez questioned, he is repulsed by the sight of any food that doesn't come from the Chicken TV Dinna Factory. If it lookz "nasty" [aka "healthy"] he is gonna hatez it...HE DON'T CARRREE!

My future adopted son can only eat a few tingz: a) Chix Nuggetz; b) Cheez Whizzzz; or c) BACON. He lurrrrvez bacon cuz like anybody that has a tongue, he realizez it is the most derricious ting to ever be sliced off an animal, covered in oil and slathered down peepz' throatz. But, he's gotta tell you, IT'S GOOD FOR HIM! How else can he grow beautiful lumpz of jowl on his face or cultivate love handles for his torso?!

C'mon people! Unlike you folkz, King Curtis has his prioritiez straight. Get pleasantly plump [read as: dangerously overweight], lead the team of "having fun" and always set aside time to pointlessly make demonic chipmunk noizes.

And what happenz if any little "bumpz in the road" come along and get in the way of his golden rules of Kingly order? He will tell all you smart little girlz that he's the boss and that you can't try to make him run 30 milez (feat. you gotta eatz sum vegetablez). You will never be able to catch him wearing those little high heelz! JUST YOU TRY!

Now if you will excuse me, I gotza get my stupid cholo butt over to my grandparent's casa and spend a few horaz eating frozzzen nuggetz of chickenz. GOOD DAY!

Friday, September 11, 2009

Demon DELUXE!!

I almost died yesterday! Dear, dear bloggy friendz, it is only by a miracle of Gawd that I didn't get murdered. And who was it that was hungry for my soul?! This terrifying devil angel of death that was haunting the subway connection to the Port Authority in Nueva Nueva yesterday. As you folkz might know, one ting that absolutely terrifies me is "standing still." Someone could be chasing me with a chainsaw or trying to Jeffrey Dahmer mah existence and it would not be nearly as frightening as me being faced with someone that is just standing in front of me and staring. "WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?!" is what I would shout before sprinting my stupid ass out of the house and into the protective bicepz of my [non-existent] boyfriend.

Anywayz, this monster succubus of crimson terror was posed in the subway and was oddly rotating back and forth without moving her legz. "HOW ARE YOU MOVING?!" I screamed in my head. She had a hat full of dinero in front of her blood-soaked wedding dress...

...and rando peepz that clearly have bigger pelotaz than I approached her and put Washingtonz into it. As soon as they did, she would spring to life like a devil Jack-In-the-Box and pull out these little heart coinz from a satchel of hers. A defenseless and foolish little boy deposited some ching-ching into her sombrero and was given one of those cursed coinz. I thought for sure that little tot was gonna be dragged to hell...

...but he wasn't and his stupid parents giggled as he almost was murdered. I kept a safe distance and let everyone else flirt with el diablo. However, the most terrifying part was when she put her armz up and struck a Cholo pose...

...I ran away crying and found a police man and told him that people were being sacrificed by the devil. They arrested me for being a moron and beat me till I almost died. Then they threw me in jail and I weeped a lot. And then I went home and listened to The Wreckers. What an exciting day!

[note: the last part of this entry may be slightly fabricated. Well, not the going home and listening to The Wreckers part! They're soooooo good!]

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


[I went out to hang up my laundry yesterday and when I came back into the kitchen, one of our last two remaining kittenz, Butterscotch Luna Moon Pie Honey Grrrl was poised @ my laptop and writing on my Blogger account! Good jerb Honey Grrrl! Keep it up and you just might have your own [non]successful bullshiz blog like your stupid grandpappy!]

Here is her entry:


Hoo-rah for Honey Grrrl!

Monday, September 7, 2009

My Monday Muse


Why can't I meet a man this romantico? Some German cholo who goes by the name "GellieMan" had better have gotten some hot poooontang after recording this video prox 10 yearz ago! Probably the greatest music video of all time [sorry B.O.N.!], his cover of "Aicha" is a classic that everyone must watch/listen/savor.

The song was originally recorded by some group named Outlandish that has a lead singer that lookz awkwardly like former American Idol drop-out Mario Vazquez. But who carez?! GellieMan's rendition is totez the only one peepz should be checking out.

Pooooooooor GellieMan! Get this boi some scotch tape and a shot of whiskey, we gotz to get him mended up! I know all you hoz out there are made jellerz of his B-rate *NSync dance movez and his Minnie Mouse bedspread! Don't lie! And those frosted/gelled hairtipz! TO. DIE. FO. I tink his emoting @ "So beautiful..." [:25] & @ "...out of my dreamz" [:50] is heartbreaking and it makez me wanna break the skull of this Aicha ho who be messing wit his love! He's sensitive! Like me! He's so sensitivo that I bet he would read Anne Sexton with me while listening to M. Branch's "Hotel Paper" on repeat (feat. non-stop crying & Enrico).

Now I'm sad and have to go record mah own version. Peace out cub scoutz!


Saturday, September 5, 2009

Music Video Vault

Mandy Moore - "In My Pocket"

WHAT'S THE DEAL?: She's one of my favo female pop startletz that for mega dupa triple supa serial never got the pop radio recognition she deserved. Amanda Leigh Moore was birthed into mah life via TRL during the late 1990's via her fantastically pointless pseudo-hit single "Candy." The song itself was goofy and cute and the video featured underage driving, awkward straw-slurping, terribe vundervill faux-Jessica Simpson dancing [read as: more or less standing in one place and moving your armz around] and coy eye batting at the camera. But being the afterbirth of golden girlz Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera does have its drawnbacks, aka never having a top ten single and selling significantly less albums that than her contemporariez. She released prox 15 singles that no one loved except for me and mah friend Val and then she started making movies about dying of cancer and being a disturbed high school chick. She released some more albums and started transforming herself into a new-wave folky female singer-songwriter. She starred in one of my favo movies of all time, Saved!, and married some famous singer guy that I've always heard about but never heard.

But the tragedy that is Mandy Moore's musical failures always breaks mah heart when I tink about it. For my burfday one year, Val bought me her self-titled third album (feat. "Yo-Yo," one of the best pop songz ever!) and I listened to it non-stop for two hourz! On this record was a fantasico track called "In My Pocket" that had an even more brilliant [read as: bizarre and reeking in incongruity with the message of the song] music video. Of course, like nearly everyting else Amanda Leigh ever attempted, the single bombed and was all but wiped off the face of the Earth. So that is why I'd like to discuss this brilliant pop song and give it the sexxxy hot lovin' it deservez!

VIDEO SYNOPSIS: There is not much of a storyline to this vid. Basically, Mandy Moore is inside some sort of I Dream Of Jeannie bottle with a bunch of servants who cater to her needz while she dances with no one in an ugly up-doo ponytail. She spends the majority of the video shaking her hips, pretending to be authentically Asian, snarling @ the camera and attempting to look sexxxy. "Attempting" is the key word there, for Ms. Leigh Moore may try to seduce us with her sensual vocalz and come hither fuck-me eyez, but she ultimately fails, expressing four other less flattering emotionz/statez of being.

After numerous bouts of non-dancing, Mandy is lifted and carried by a harem of shirtless stud servantz who then begin dancing for her (aka thrusting their hipz into her face). She is accompanied during this debauchery by a collection of small, sad Tibetan children who are forced to smile and pretend to have some shred of understanding as to what is going on around them. Everyone thought that Gwen Stefani was the first to enslave Asianz for her own amusement
when she kidnapped her Harajuku slutz, but NO! Mandy Moore beat you to the punch, Gwennerz.

A bunch of circus freakz and stupid jesterz do some shit for her before the video ends with more camera-pouting and head-tilting. It's quite the experience. So enjoy its wonder, mah bloggy babiez and don't worry about contacting the international child protection servicez, I called and t hey are already on their way.


:01 -:13 - Have you had a seizure yet due to the uncomfortable neon colorz and quick shot changes? I have. Ouch!

- Notice how Mandy is totez checking out your package! Dirrrrrty grrrrrrl!

1:08 - Circus freak alert! A devil woman with long stick fingernailz that each have flaming marshmallowz speared @ the end! Scary (and derriciouz)!

1:26 - Mandy read mah mind! There is serial nuffin' hotter than watching two studs beat the shit out of each other, upside down, hanging from a tree trunk.

2:11 - Mandy is refreshed by black men rubbing their chestz.

2:22 - Amanda Leigh has apparently never seen a back-flip before. Her jaw unhingez to gasp in amazement.

2:30 - A bunch of hoz start spinning platez everywhere. I secretly wish that there were Chicken TV Dinnaz on each of them. I'm hungerz!

2:49 - Mandy does her best Björk impression. "Whooaaaaaaaa!"

THE CONCLUSION: This song only went to number #102 on the Billboard Hot 100 (aka #2 on the Bubbling Under charts). It breakz mah soul to think that it wasn't successful and that follow-up singles "Crush" (feat. monkey) and "Cry" (feat. blinding light effects) didn't make an impact either. Don't worry Ms. Moore, you will always live on in my mind and I will continue to digress into the mind of a teenage grrrrl by getting overly emotional over your shetty sappy love songz.

Love alwayz, Mandy Joshie