Thursday, July 29, 2010

My Musical ABCs - D!

YAY. You still keep on coming back for more! I would have thought that the novelty of this ABC crap would have worn off...guess peepz like to talk about their opinionz...who woulda thought?! Let's get dis deliciously dandy destructively demanding diatribe a-rollin'. It's time for Mr. D! Bitch...get your glazed azz out here!

"The District Sleeps Along Tonight"
The Postal Service

"I am a visitor here. I am not permanent."

Remember last year how everyone in the world thought that Owl City's "Fireflies" was sOoOoOo unique & differz? Well...for the months that it polluted the radio airwaves, I cried myself to sleep every night. Not because of world hunger or prejudice or any of that boring schtuff...I cried mah st00pid butt to sleep every night because America is so dumb that they'd heap mountainz of praise on dis goofy electrofart song about kidnapping bugs, yet pay little attention to the geniuz of The Postal Service who released an album of similar style & superior construction 6 years earlier! America FAILZ.

I heard this song in high school when a friend forcefed it to me. I was instantly in lurrrve and began forging the lyrix as mah own poetry in creative writing class scribbling the lyrix down on mah notebookz, wishing I was smart enough to write dem beautiful words! But of course Ben Gibbard, who is also the lead songwriter of Death Cab For Cutie, is galaxies ahead of the mediocre vom that I beef up, so I should just sober up to the fact that I'm not eloquent enough to compose lines as heartbreakingly honest as those found in this song. YAY!

Have you ever been broken up wiff and then drunkenly cried for a year straight while a robot shorted out in the background? If so, then "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" should have been your depresso espresso anthem! BAWL WITH ME!

"The Day We Fell Apart" by Kelly Clarkson
"Desperately" by Michelle Branch
"The Day I Lost My Voice (The Suitcase Song)" by
"Dance With Me" by Debelah Morgan

Monday, July 26, 2010

My Monday Muse

[For serial...July ripped by me like a chainsaw through Jessica Biel's ragtag group of dumb, hot friendz. I don't remember anything important happening dis entire month...well except for mah four gloriouz Monday Muses of July 2010! Make sure you get your shit togethz, do your research, and then vote for your favo of the month, @ the bottom of dis herre entry. Remember, it's important and blah blah blah [feat. 3Oh!3]]

Lez Chat

I don't know any lesbianz. Surprising I know, but I seem to have lived 24 yearz wiffout ever forming a really concrete friendshit con chicas who quieren otras chicas. I don't have any problem wiff such peepz, and I think I might be able to learn a lot from one (like, seriously, what's the dealio with vaginaz? Like...what does it do?), yet they still seem to elude me like a mysterious entity that I've heard of in childhood fairytales [aka Peppermint Patty and that artarded "friend" of hers, Marcy].

But apparently knowledge is just a phone call away...all mah quandriez about lezbananas can be answered by dialing just one simple number...

I've never even thought about spending $$$ to use a phone sexxx line (to talking to lame strangerz about orgasmz?! Isn't that what ManRoulette is for?!). For serial, when I was a teen and felt an urge to get my buzzer a-beeping, I would just clap off all the lights, turn the TV down real low and watch episodes of Strip Poker or the classic MTV soft-core sitcom, Undressed, while mah parents slept in the other room.

But look @ all the time I could have been wasting information I was missing out on! Field hockey? Period hypnosis? Bewbz? Recyclin'? Kleets Kleats Cleats?!?

And for serial...what's cuter than Lez Cat?! [answer: Nice Dog]

So call today, sillyface, some stereotypical dummy representations of an entire population of people are just waiting to turn you on [read as: bore you to death]!


Who is your Monday Muse of July 2010?!

Sandra Lee?
Rainbow Fanatix?
or this week's Lez Chat?

Sunday, July 25, 2010


I've come to accept the fact that I am getting mad old...ancient really (24 is like 44 in popstar yearz!), and mah chances of becoming a world famous singer writer actor celebrity are diminishing exponentially everyday. So since I will probably lose @ my life game and never be important [aka on the cover of magazinez], I thought it would be wise to look into celebrity impersonationz. If I can't be a famous person, I can at least look like one and steal their identity. Good idea, right?

So I enlisted the help of some goofy scientific online program, Heritage, and got to work uploading several photos of myself to see what my closest celeb dopplegangers are. Of course, Jared Leto (who peepz constantly say I look like), was near the top of the list...though I would fart on a thousand shiny glittery wishing stars to look half as sexxxy as he is. But here are some slightly more unexpected likenesses and potential future identities and why I'd be qualified to take over their glamorous vidaz!:

Johnny Depp: We both have been fictitiously involved with Helena Bonham Carter. Though his relationship wiff her is based around a movie, whereas mine is contrived solely in my daydreamz.

Sean William Scott: We both have the personalities of 10 year-olds.

Anna Paquin: We both were child actors. Anna won an Oscar @ the age of 11 for her role in The Piano. I cried myself through an audition and later scored [read as: guilt-tripped the directors into giving me] a solo in my 5th grade musical rendition of Johnny Appleseed.

Jamie Cullum: We both proficiently play the piano. He has made a career of it. I can play "White Houses" over and over.

Carrie Underwood: We both have competed on American Idol. Once again, only en mis sueños de dias.

Gillian Anderson: We both think David Duchovny is Hot City Central.

Jena Malone: We both have sung along with Mandy Moore; Jena in Saved! and me in my car.

Adam Brody: We both adore Death Cab for Cutie.

Ricky Martin: We both gay.

Edith Piaf: We are both suckaz for a good, slow, sad ballad.

Silvester Stallone: We both w33nz.

But above all deez peepz...there was one celeb that came out #1 on all 5 photos I ran through the face recognition software bullshit program...Chad Michael Murray (?)!

He's some actor that doesn't really matter that had the privilege of working with Paris Hilton in the brilliant epic cinematic masterpiece that I saw in theaters, House of Wax. What do you peepz think? Do I look like him? Do I look like any of deez hoz? Who have you been told you look like?

Friday, July 23, 2010

Standing Room ONLY!

The subway is not a fun place to be. I mean, sure there are a whole bunch of colorful characterz that pollute our eyez we city folkz encounter regularly, but this does not negate the fact that being on the subway suckz balls and that without fail, you will alwayz be stuck near the smelliest, fattest, rudest and most clueless people in the entire world every time you enter one of the trainz.

And dis herrre blog is an animated story (cuz werdz are for w33nises), depicting a not-so-fantastico adventure I had earlier this week...

So I got on the D Train leaving Southern Brooklyn and headed to work. The subway was quite crowded (durhz...rush hora!) and every seat in my train car had an ass in it...except for one...

Now, I could have easily slid into that seat, but a) I like standing and bending my knees (which is a tightening exercise for thighz [aka my blubberiest body part]); b) I'm not a lazzzy walrus; & c) there was a puddle of some sort of indistinguishable nectar in front of the seat, and there's no way I'd let David's shoez that I swiped from his closet my really expensive shoez get all dirtified!

Then the car stopped and a flock of passengerz entered [feat. one bell-shaped doughboy] and they all scattered around the car and grabbed onto the safety bars. The doughboy had another plan in mind...and that plan involved more or less knocking me over so he could get to the sacred & last remaining subway seat...

Forgiving his terrible complexxxion and obnoxious attemptz @ being sexxxy via clothing that was WAAAY too tight for his paunchy abdomen, he was a douchenozzle also for lumbering his massive body into me to get to the seat...cuz you know, standing is so strenuous.

And then, a woman who was prox double the age of the whoever the oldest person alive is, ghosted her way to the same seat that the chunkster prick monsta was eying...

The old woman was shaking against her walker and had the saddest eyes in the entire world. My heart basically aborted itself outta mah chest, cuz I couldn't handle the immense sadness that her shriveling little body injected me with. But the plumpster wasn't phased by her nearly RIP status. He instead lit a fire in his eyez and turned into a demon (slight exaggeration)...

He gnashed his chopz, focused his eyez and erupted a growl that shook the windowz and mad wittle babiez cry for days! He opened his gob wider than even Chloë Sevigny can, and released a volcanic blast of embers and splintery debris that engulfed the whole woman...

After he farted away her charred, dusty remainz, he inched towardz the throne. It lay gleaming and waiting for his fat azz delicate posterior to rest its supple [read as: sweaty] nalgaz all up in its grill. But Karma kicked him in the taint, for as soon as he moved in front of the seat, he slipped his st00pid self on the slippery puddle underneath him and came crashing to the ground.

He then proceeded to pick his goofy bunz off the filthy floor and exit @ the next stop. Though, I doubt it was the stop he intended to peace out on, considering he was so hellbent on getting that seat, I'd assume he was preparing for a long trip.

So y'all better tink long y hard nexxxt time you take public transportation. Always give the seatz to the crippled and old peepz...they need it more than you!

Monday, July 19, 2010

My Monday Muse

I suffer from having little to no self-confidence. I mean, sure, I'll be sassy and bluntly rude playful to peepz ova the interwebz, but when someone comez @ me wiff mean-spirited rebuttal, I literally fall to piecez and cry for one hundred yearz. That's why I view dis herre Monday Muse is not only an endless source of light-hearted entertainment, but as a foundation for how I want to better myself. Be nasty strong. Be truly, truly fucking contagious confident. Be...Jiz...

DRAG QUEENZ INSANE! could very well be the greatest name for a band ever. I'm gonna copywrite that shit before Lady GaGogglez stealz it and makez it not cool anymore.

But oh shit...I can't get distracted. The real point of dis entry is to highlight the elegant and permanently stained flawless beauty of Jiz! She dryhumps countless life lessons into our brain swirlz and for that, we should all be eternally grateful! Look @ all the important info you have been hand-delivered:

Nexxx time you reek of tuna (you little lezzie!), just pay your brother $300 and he'll shat away all your problemaz. Remember, your family will only care about you if money is involved.

Nexxxt time you want to kill yourself (cuz you wish you were dead), just punt off your shetty panties and dance with tears in your eyes DANCE TO DEATH! Remember, soiled linen is no exxxcuse to evacuate the dancefloor!

Nexxxt time some cheeky bitch tries to front on your shiz and force drugz down your gob, you look her right in her cabbage patch eyez, demand a trabajo de mano and force her to pose @ your command. Remember, you must take control of all situationz!

Nexxxt time you want to ruin your life and keep your unborn undeveloped mutant shrimp baby, Jiz will drop-kick some sense into your moronic head and will selflessly shove her finga up there and do you the favor. She's such a giver! Remember, having babiez is for artardz!

Jeebuz fucking Christ. I think I see a front-runner for the Monday Muse of July 2010...

(P to da S...kudoz to Cocky & Rude for first introducing me to the glittery wonder of Jizz. Sirs, I am in your debt. Sorry I burned your shit aaaaah!)

Saturday, July 17, 2010

We hardly knew ye...

The world is soooo st00pid! How come every show that is good/clever/funny/sexxxy/different [save American Idol] getz canceled (or turnz into a gimmicky crapstorm ala Nip/Tuck)?! But then all these snorefest programz [aka schtuff that normal peepz watch] like Lost and CSI: Secret Bunghole Unit and Antique Roadshow stay firmly slotted on air for prox a bajillion yearz?!

Since I am an intelligent and modern guy who has healthy hobbies and an exciting life, I really don't have time to waste hourz watching television [read as: I'm too poor to afford it]. So therefore I instead find mahself nursing seasonz of showz I get launched to me via Netflix. And it takez me no time @ all to get through every episode, since the showz I like have only 2-3 seasonz each!

And since peepz never read absolutely LURRRVE entriez about my opinionz on TV/music/moviez, I thought I'd pimp out two of mah programaz de tevelisor favoritaz! If I can get at least one bloggy ho to watch a season, then my mission is accomplished!

Arrested Development

So even though dis show won every Emmy award ever, only prox 5 peepz watched it when it was on the boobtube. So after 3 glorious seasons of familial chaos and frozen banana-distributing, the show's life was murdered. And like all tingz that I ♥, st00pid Americanoz only learned of its genius after it was dead y murdered in the cold, cold ground.

Now it's a cult classic and everyone & their madrez own it on DVD. There are rumorz spreading like herpes across the interwebz dat a big-screen adaptation is being concocted, but until I am in a theater, watching a never-n00d, a magician an illusionist and an ultra sassy Jessica Walters chatterboxxx about the dangerz of cornballing, I shall remain skeptical.

Frisky Dingo

I just finished the 2nd (and last...blasphemy!) season of dis amazingskatez animated series yesterday! And when the credits rolled on the final episode, I serial thought about Sylvia Plathing my azz. Frisky Dingo was a child of Adult Swim, which has also spawned some of mah other favo television showz [see: Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Robot Chicken & The Venture Bros.]. And as you might have guessed by the animation style, it's from the same mastermindz behind that Archer show that everyone is all hot & bothered over!

And, y'know, all those douchez that whined about the abrupt ending to The Sopranos need to zip their lips like padlocks, cuz at least they got prox 6,214 episodes of that shiz! Frisky Dingo was 25 episodes of pure, uncensored, mildly offensive and utterly bizarre perfection that led up to the most high & dry ending of any show ever created [feat. my insidez dying for more]. BOOSH!


What about you, folkz? Are you awesome and adore these underappreciated gemz as much as I do? Any showz get brutally aborted from your life waaaay too soon? Let's counsel each other in our timez of grief!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

My Musical ABCs - C!

Well, well, well...what do we have herre? My comment count is rising?! It's almost as if peepz like mah blog again! HUZZAH! Guess dat means I better keep on-keep on-keep on-keep on doing My Musical ABCs. Mr. C, where you at?

"Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones

"I watched a change in you."

I know...I kind of box mah silly bunz into a corner what wiff my constant pop muzak referencez and my obsession wiff American Idol and mah constant desire to dance like there's no tomorrow. But don't you dare mistake me or my musical tastes are not solely encompassed by the vocal stylingz of Ke$ha, Kelly Clarkson y Katy Perry. And let mah favo song dat beginz wiff the letter C be a credit to my musical knowledge transcending the female singer/songwriter world.

Back during freshmen year of high school [circa a bajillion yearz ago], I was in danger of taking my body seriously listened only to the musica on top 40 radio. Seeing this close-mindedness setting into my fragile adolescent mind, mi hermana Melody stepped in and garbage-dumped a whole mess of harder (and in some cases, deeper) music into my noggin. It was during this musical enlightenment that I experienced bands like Tool, Incubus, A Perfect Circle and...Deftones.

For those who ain't into music of a darker shade, Deftones are a critically-acclaimed, Grammy award-winning rock band who utilize powerful guitar chops, atmospheric flirtations and lead singer Chino Moreno's uniquely haunting vocalz. They have two of mah favo album coverz of all time and the biggest hit of their career, "Change (In the House of Flies)" was one of the very first songz I remember being completely perplexxxed about upon hearing!

The song is incredibly dynamic, rising and falling in volume and intensity. I like to listen to it on the subway and stare down complete strangaz [feat. pretending I'm a demon about to drag them to hell]! And the video is a touch disconcerting, so put on your bravery cap and waaaaatch [read as: you'll probz ignore it].

"Call N' Return (Say That You're Into Me)" by Hellogoodbye
"Chicago Is So Two Years Ago" by Fall Out Boy
"Crush" by Dave Matthews Band
"Come Clean" by
Hilary Duff

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

My [Belated] Monday Muse

Rainbow Fanatix

Nature is one of the most boring thingz in the world and I really try to avoid it as much as possible. Some peepz LURRRVE being outside in forestz wiff bugz and humidity and wild shewolvez, but I'd rather not sweat mahself silly and get mauled by wildlife, tanx u berry much!

But I can still appreciate da BeAuTy that nature sometimez fartz into our eyez, and dat's why dis week's Tuesday Monday Muse(z) are two peepz who truly appreciate the natural world we are slowly killing.

Double Rainbow D00d

This charming fellow [read as: mentally unstable locomeister] is basically providing a 3-minute demonstration of all the different levels of love one can feel for sumfing. Here is the progression of his excitement/insanity:

:00 - :21 - The excitement one feels when they receive a great Xtinamas gift [see: me getting N64 back in 1997].

:22 -
:46 - The excitement one feels when they come home from a fantastic first date wiff the r future spouse.

:47 - 1:16 - The excitement [feat. hysterix] one feels when they win an Academy Award/Grammy/Tony [aka not me].

1:17 - 1:41 - The excitement one feels when they engage in sexxxy dancing for the first time in their vida.

1:42 - 1:51 - The excitement one feels when they/their wife p00p out a baby.

1:52 - FIN - The excitement a truly demented lunatic feelz upon seeing a dOuBLe RaiNBoW!

Sprinkler Cholita

No wonder rainbowz are tied to the gay community; you have to keep a keen on eye on both of them or else they take over society and destroy the world we live in! Ya know, 20 años ago, rainbowz only could be found ringed around the sun y moon. But nowadayz, tanx to global warming/pollution/politix/war/hunger/blah blah blah, rainbowz are OOZING outta da ground! I tink it's up to us, dee citizenz of this mediocre great planet, to ask Jeebuz what the hell is goin' on. ::unnecessary rotation of camera:: If we don't...who knowz what sort of tyrannical control the visible spectrum of rainbowz will take over us?! I IZ SCURRED.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

The person that I dreamt up when I was 16.

If you take a look @ mah Last.FM from last Sunday, you will clearly see that I was a sad little goat. Listening to the same three heart-wrenching mellow jamz on repeat for hourz is never a good sign and I am disappointed in you all surprised no one called/tweeted/messaged me to make sure I wasn't killing mah own azz! MEAN!

But since all you cholitoz are reading dis blog now, I guess it meanz you care about me (and I expect many a supportive comment to flood dis entry!). Last weekend, while I was packing mah bag for my workweek in Nueva Nueva, I started getting all teary-eyed and lame, thinking about mah vida!

I remember when I was a douchey little self-centered high schooler and wrote entry after entry in my st00pid My-Diary about HoW ComPLiCAdO MaH LiFe WuZzzZ. I started looking through all these crappy entriez and came across a few in partix that injected my heart with a double dosing of the melancholy sadz!

The entriez (which I can't seem to relocate now! Looks like you'll just have to read through ALL OF DEM!) were largely me envisioning what mah vida would be like once I turned 22.

Keep in mind that I was a hopelessly romantic 16-year-old that cried when he got picked last for kickball and who thought that the melodramatic sap bag that is Rent was the single greatest expression of creativity to ever come into existence.

Here is a recap of what teenage me had hoped current me would be like:

I would live in a gloriouz apartment right in the middle of the sexxxy hipster part of the city. I would sit out on the fire escape with my racially-ambiguous & emotionally damaged roommate grrrlfriend and we'd drink wine from the bottle and share DaRk SeCrEtOz via candlelight from our pasts while listening to smart peep music [see: Sigur Ròs, Radiohead, Modest Mouse & Cursive].

I would spend my diaz being poor and serving peepz comida @ a casual, yet moderately expensive restaurante where I'd make decent (though not luxxxury-providing) tipz. In the wee horaz of night, I'd slave over a dinosaur-era typewriter and compose poem after self-reflecting confessionalist poem until mah fingerz reeked of ink and clever enjambment! This leadz to a book deal which then leadz to me revitalizing the poetry market and ushering in a new generation of successful poetz! What a sensitive, tortured soul, have I!

On the weekendz, to make some exxxtra buckaroonz, I'd go to the local coffee shop and perform heart-breaking original ditties about throats/eyez/knucklebonez, nostalgic remembrances of quick handfuls of boy's skin and painful odes to islands that atlases forgot. With each performance, more and more peepz would come to my shows and I'd collect a swarm of handome and intelligent men folk that would shyly eye me as I performed...thus causing me more inspiration which thus leadz to more admirerz!

I would then become discovered @ the coffee shop and be signed to an Indie record label. I'd break through to the pop charts with a soulful ballad an upbeat song about partying wiff hot grrrlz [feat. dancey island beat]. After I win two Grammys that year, I get cast in a sexxxy/different/reflective feature film about a male prostitute. I win the Oscar that year for my performance. After proving mah axxxing skillz, I get cast in the much-buzzed about revival of Godspell, in which I also score a Tony for my performance as Judas or whatever.

Finally, the grandest dream of mah entire fake life comez to fruition: I make it on the cover of a glossy magazine! An 8-page spread accompanies my cover and featurez a well-written and insightful interview and 5 racy-yet-tasteful B&W photoz where I pose mah emaciated body in tight undaroonz next to naked men, while my mascara runs [feat. "yes, you can't have me" eyez] and I look longingly into the camera (cuz even though I have fame y fortune, I still cry, cry, cry in mah lonely heart).

YAY! And since I am now 24, and have yet to accomplish any of these goalz I had set for mahself, I think it's time to go cry and leave some teardropz on mah guitar. Now I'm moping, but what about you hoz? What was your biggest dream as a 16-year-old? Did you accomplish it or fail like I did?

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Papa, I know you're goin' to be upset...

A good cover song can make my special areaz tingle wiff indescribable deeeeelite! Especially if the original song is sumfing that borez me to thousandz of tearz [aka was popular prox five months after I was borned]!

As my infamously ghetto fabo high school website can tell you [feat. mi amiga mejor VAL], I am obsessed wiff the sassy reality show goddess that is Kelly Osbourne. I used to secretly watch The Osbournes when I was a teen, cuz I didn't want mah familia finding out and judging me. I always fell asleep whenever Jack or Ozzy were on screen, but as soon as Kelly or her almost-as-awesome mommy Sharon floated into the shot, my eyes esssploded open and I would start laughing for 32 horaz straight!

When I found out grrrlfriend was releasing an album, I knew I had to get it the second it came out! When I found out she was releasing a SECOND album, I made sure I drove I got my boyfriend at the time to drive me to Best Buy as soon as the store opened! I love both discs and I don't care if it's cool for butthole music elitists to rag on her!

Nowadays she is mad thin and in-shape and engaged and fighting anti-gay douchebagz! To honor her growing success as well as grant Enrico's video request from a thousand year's ago, I give you...

"Papa Don't Preach" by Madonna Kelly Osbourne

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

My [Belated] Monday Muse

Sandra Lee

I always admire those that can cook/bake. I mean, for serial, is there anything more attractive that a man who will cook all your mealz for you while you plant your nalgaz in front of his computer and blog about pointless crap who can work wonderz in the cocina?! NO! Well...yes, "Bulletproof" by La Roux is better, but culinary boyfriendz are a close second!

I actually have moderate culinary talentz, mahself. I survived throughout the majority of college making my own comida, and I didn't end up getting fat/dying via clogged arteries/choking down nasty burned food itemz. Although, I am far from a food master exxxpert, so I must admit that after watching dis week's Monday Muse elegantly saunter [read as: drunkenly stutter] about her fakeazz studio kitchen, I picked up a tip or two myself! Just watch and get your pen and notepad ready!

I WANT TO BE SEMI-HOMEMADE! Sandra Lee [feat. golden locks and matching outfit/kitchen color comboz] is the modern day Julia Child. Though, I'm thinking that Heidi Montag might be a better choice to portray her in a movie than that novice Meryl Streep! But I digress...let's not deter away from the point of dis entry...DERRICIOUZ GOOD YUMMY SUPA-SUPA SIMPLE LUSCIOUS FOODINGZ!

I don't know what half the shit is she's scooping and pooping and pouring and plopping all over the place, but it sure lookz fanciful! I'm so low-class, I don't think I even deserve to eat Sandra's splatterz! I have to get myself into the kitchen more often so I too can master the recipe of the Luxurious Local Aquarium Espresso!

Remember, the secret ingredient to anything truly scrumptious is a splash (or 6) of vodka and a nice hefty portion of fisting!

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Gay Schtuff

As everyone that readz dis blog probably is aware of, last weekend was the NYC Gay Pride Parade. I have envisioned this shindig to be a terrifying display of all the tingz that irritate me about gay stereotypez, but it was actually quite awesomeskatez and surprisingly welcoming!

But as unifying and sexxxual entertaining as it was, there was sumfing else that made the parade even better. As we all know, the best part of paradez is the possibility of scoring a lootbag full of pointless wonderful mementoz from floatz that think you actually care about their organization/product and not just the free lollipopz or whatever they are chucking @ the crowd.

Well, the NYC Gay Pride Parade basically crushed the living hell outta every other parade I'd ever been to! So since I shared wiff you all [read as: bored the living shiitake mushroomz outta you] my photographz from the Mermaid Extravaganza Whore March, I thought I would instead just pump your veinz full of envy wiff a quick rundown of all the goodiez I scored @ the NYC Gay Pride Parade!

A) Fan - It was prox 98 degreez & rising, so all of us parade-bystanderz were jonesing for a way to cut the unrelenting heat [feat. consequentially unsightly sweat waterfall] that was suffocating us. And since parade sponsor Fuze decided to ignore our section of audience when they handed out free samples of their overpriced faux-fruit juicez, me and mis amigoz were left still sweltering in the sun's unflinching douchegaze. Lucky for us though, some peepz strolled by handing out the paper fans I am holding in my hand in da above picture. It was the only thing standing between me and 13 back2back heatstrokez.

B) Condoms - I know I might be in the minority of peepz that (oh, no) do not hook u(uh-uh)p, so it was reassuring to see that EVERY FLOAT was handing out goodie bagz chockfull of condamnz! My total is upwards of 60 rubberz, which is probably about double the number of times I've ever needed to use one in mah entire life! It's my goal to use all of them before they exxxpire [aka hand them out to whorez on the street along with a pamphlet on finding personal salvation through Jeebuz Christ].

C) Beads - You know how during Mardi Gras grrrlz flash their milk dudz @ fat old men to try and get cheap dollar store beadz? Well, the same ting happenz @ Pride Parade! Only instead of having to peekaboo your nipz, you just need to eye-fuck the cholita or glitterpuss holding the bag o' beadz and pray that you're cute enough to deserve ugly plastic jewelry. I must have been doing sumfing right (or wrong?), cuz I ended up getting three necklacez of that gaudy crap! Good for me! SOPHISTICATED STYLE FOREVER!

D) Stickers - I feel like candy is the go-to handout throwout @ all community-based events. And while the Pride Parade did feat. a supply of candy-toting men in thongz, the majority of the prizez given came in the form of stickers. I made it my goal to acquire as many stickers as I possibly could and plaster my bod wiff them. By the end of da parade, I had prox 13 stickers smacked onto my torso, including several for boring politicianz and one celebrating my god-given lesbianism.

E) Lip-chap - Sure, it ain't my (incarcerated?) grrrlfriend Saaphyri's infamous lip moisturizer, but it still was FREE! I told Dahvid that I was afraid to use it, cuz I was 99% sure that I would get da herpes if I slathered that onto to my puckerz (based on absolutely nothing), but I applied it and didn't get a single spot. Just a cold sore! Yay!

F) Cher's head - I don't need to tell you about the upcoming film Burlesque (I'm sure November 24th is circled in red on all of your calendars!). And I for def def defferz didn't need to tell the participants in the parade about the Christina Aguilera-debuting film! Everywhere you looked, peepz were holding paper fans with either Xtina or some old person's face on sticks. I tried to coerce some nearly-n00dz to give me their bionic Xtina faces to no avail. Then I saw a decapitated Cher puss in the middle of the street and convinced a parading pepaw to give it to me! And her face doesn't look half bad...tanxb2gawd for Photoshop retouchingz!

G) Katy Perry! - Speaking of celebrity trash memorabilia that I found, my friendz y yo were walkin' through a dirrty alleyway when I nearly tripped over this gorge (albeit ripped to piecez) poster of Katy Perry from the cover of her latest #1 single (4 weekz & counting!) "California Gurls"! I don't care if the poster looks like Rosie O'Donnell tried to eat the Candyland magic off of K. Perry's sugarpillowz, I still hung that dirty piece of torn paper on my wall! My love runneth deep!

H) Spanking Stick - Now, it wouldn't be a Gay Pride Parade (cuz I'm a self-appointed exxxpert) if there weren't some classy sexxxytime toyz handed out to the crowd. And what better way to tell someone that you them than to smack them repeatedly with a splinter-ridden poorly sanded piece of wood?! I only know someone lovez me when they give me a black eye, break my arm and then beat me repeatedly with an over-sized tongue depressor!

So are YOU a parade addict like I am? What's the greatest loot you ever scored for FREE from such celebrations?! Do I look like an a$$hole in that photo?! Let me know!

P to da S:
We went to a Chinese restaurant right after the parade, and the fortune I got in my stale dessert cookie was, no shit, THIS. AZN people READ. MY. MIND!