Beyoncé is Pregnant! Who the Fuck Cares?

Seriously, I don’t. It made me think of Jay-Z’s dick and I suppose that’s nice, but otherwise I can’t think of one reason to care what’s cooking in her jelly. And yet, somehow, the revelation that she got completely spermed smashed all Twitter records, topping off at 8,868 tweets per second. That beat out the last record made by the World Cup butch-a-thon when some chick did something awesome and made other chicks care about something for a minute. Hurricane Irene topped out around 3000 tweets per second and that includes all of the ‘getting blown by Irene’ tweets from 10 year old boys and frat douches.

On The Boob Tube:  Dance Moms. Seriously. It’s a lot like Toddlers and Tiaras with one remarkable difference. There isn’t any reason to hate the children in this show. I know, I can usually find a pretty good reason to hate children, but these ones are all pretty harmless. That means you start to feel sympathy for poor Nia when Fat Abby puts her in an afro wig and makes her perform drag queen Shangela’s They Call Me Laquifa. Since all of the moms are raging cunts and Fat Abby is a self-important marshmallow she-beast, you have to wonder how fucked up these kids are going to be.

The newest pairings for that crap show Dancing With The Stars dropped a big turd in the Twitter toilet with the announcement that Chaz Bono will be dancing with former SYTYCDer, Lacy Schwimmer. I love Chaz, but that’s not enough to make me watch this shit. Even the hope that Bristol Palin’s worn out uterus would prolapse and trip her up didn’t make me tune in to this brain-number. You know what will? The desperate hope that Nancy-Fucking-Grace will trip on her cloven hooves and fall heinous-face first into an inexplicably placed pit of venomous snakes and rusty spikes. Well, that and the remote possibility of a wardrobe malfunction and dick slip from David Arquette.

On The Web: If you’re an enormous fan of military-themed porn, complete with aggressive domination, boot licking, and community theater caliber acting like I am, then you’ll love AreYouSuprised. This headless, but scrumptious torso has been posting YouTube videos talking about being a big old homo in the military for a bit now. Alongside that, he’s been posting videos of an impossibly good Air Force chica singing songs like Adele’s Rolling In The Deep. Somewhere between the two, his fellow soldiers watched one and found the other. As he explains it, they didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass which is a brand new sort of story these days. Come late September, when DADT is supposed to be fully shit-canned, he plans to show his face. Given his misspelling of Surprised, his breadloaf pecs, and his Sylvester The Cat lisp, I can’t decide if this is a good thing or not.

On The Radio: I don’t even understand how it happened, but The Muppets just put out an album. The Green Album includes covers by a bunch of Indie hipster groups like OK Go doing the Muppets theme song. I can’t lie, I’ve watched this almost as much as I’ve watched Miss Piggy singing Peaches’ Fuck The Pain Away. I’m not getting my name put on some creepy government watchlist by buying this album, but once some h4xx0r illegally uploads the songs to YouTube, I’ll be checking out The Fray’s cover of Mahna Mahna and Weezer doing The Rainbow Connection. It’s not like my childhood can get any more twisted than it already is, so bring on the ruination.

Fucking with the Bachmanns

On The Web: What do you get when you dress a handful of twinks and baby dykes up like cavemen and Vikings and let them loose in Minneapolis?  This. 

These kids are super-fierce superheroes and if you ever run into any one of them, I fully expect you to fulfill whatever dirty fantasies their still under-developed brains can come up with. That, sugar, is what activism means and what it looks like when someone tries to tell us they can counsel the ass-eating, cooter-fisting, two-dicks-a-day for the rest of our lives homosexuality out of us with the power of God. Somebody round these kids up and send them after Dana Loesch. And, just to show my support, I’m not going to say anything mean about the ginger barbarian that, despite having no soul, glitterbombed that hate hole right alongside the normal little homosexuals.

On The Radio: This week, Rebecca Black’s new song came out. Considering that her notoriety is based completely in being that functionally retarded girl that can’t figure out where to sit, she rolled in with a whopping 12+ million views. I’m fucking baffled. The lyrics are shit, the music is ripped right off a 1982 Casio keyboard synth pop button, and she looks like Winnie Cooper with an extra chromosome. Considering the comments section is filled with things like “MY HAND IS A DOLPHIN” and “this is the biggest load of crap. I hope you hang yourself bitch,” I’m just going to assume the sheer volume of hits are the responsibility of people that, like myself, would like to see Rebecca Black tipped head-first into a woodchipper.

On The Boob Tube: Ok, now be honest, who the fuck is watching "Toddlers & Tiaras"? You degenerates are keeping this train wreck on the air and every week you sit down with it, another Joan Benet Ramsey ends up in Thai porn or dead in a gutter. Remember that next fucking Christmas when you don’t get your pony. I forced myself to sit through an entire episode just so I had something to tell you about this week and I could barely keep down the two chocolate cakes and half barrel of Pabst Blue Ribbon it took to stay in my seat. In particular, the coked out stepmom with the hideous ginger kid really

made me happy that none of my furtive attempts at making butt babies has been fruitful.  Seriously, who spray tans a ginger? That little bitch looked like a khaki tampon. Somebody just stab the unsightly daywalker in the heart with a nail file before it grows up to wreak havoc on those of us with souls. Why are these trailer moms so set on turning perfectly boring heterosexual children into bitchy drag babies that are at least a whole half inch shorter than Taj Mahal anyway? Considering popping out your own little uterus beast? Watch it here.

In Theaters: I feel like I’m obligated to give the latest Harry Potter film a mention, but the fact is: If you’re a fan, you spent all summer waxing your broom or flicking your snitch or whatever your particular anatomy calls for (flogging Dobby?) in expectation of the culmination of the series. If you’re not a fan, you’ve been furiously pounding away at your Facebook with statuses about the downfall of culture and capitalist takeover of literary and film markets. I’m not going to change your mind with a rant or rave about the content, so I’ll just say this: yes, you do get a lovely glimpse at the billion dollar treasure trail that convinced a scary amount of people to go to a play about a horsefucker. Also, there are a crap load of gingers in this movie and it still makes money – proof that there is no place for a soul in Hollywood. A note to the gingers: I don’t have a soul either. No worries. Of course, I got rid of mine the normal way (traded the devil for small hands and a huge dick), but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have as much right to keep popping up out of your manholes and scaring the hell out of people as everyone else. Do your thing and Prince Harry, if you’re reading this, I have absolutely no problem getting pig-nasty with a ginger.

David and the Ginger Giant

On The Radio: David Guetta v. Florence + the Machine: I’m a serial NPR listener, so my only real access to new music comes from either the influx of YouTube videos posted to social media sites or music-obsessed queerbears on Scruff who’d rather tell me what concert they just came from than send me a close up of their cock. That being said, both Guetta and Florence seem to be getting a lot of attention, so I gave them a listen.

My take? Guetta is for the homo club boys and urban violence technicians. He seems to be some sort of not-exactly-ugly, skinny, white Timbaland. I’d look at his dick if he was at the urinal next to me, but I’d do the same thing to Dieta Pepsi, so there’s no real value in that at all. Florence will likely end up at Lilith Fair performing as a man. I’m not saying she isn’t a man now, mind you, but she isn’t performing as one. Ginger giant that she is, she’s at least shopping for her shoes among the genitally ambiguous. Not surprisingly, you’ll probably hear both at Novak’s and either would do fine in the relentless cacophony of The Loading Zone.

On The Boob Tube: For those in the know, True Blood is back. In the few short episodes aired so far, we’ve had a few better-than-fleeting glances at Sam Merlotte’s ass; gratuitous biting, licking, and raping of Jason Stackhouse; hot and sweaty girl on girl action from Tara Thornton; and some plot stuff that gets all clogged up between the nudity and violence. Sadly, still no raunchy faggot witch sex on screen between the staple gays: Lafayette and Jesus.

Yes, Jesus. An easy name to get right when you’re on your back with your feet on the ceiling, right ladies? I’m willing to hold out hope that the show will get even gayer now that they’ve given Tara a fever for the flavor of the Sapphic sensation, but I’m also near a letter writing campaign to remove Lafayette’s ridiculous frohawk and rattail.

From the doldrums of obscurity, somebody nobody watches said something everybody heard. So, apparently CBS is still airing its voyeuristic idiotfest, Big Brother. Who knew? Once I found out that the same show in other countries included gratuitous (in size and exposure) penis footage, I gave up watching our puritan sideshow version. Even so, former 2009 Big Brother homophobe Jeff Schroeder is back again and this time he’s hating on Dumbledore. In his words, "He's in a school with little kids, you can't make that guy gay!" This is the same guy that gave us these gems in 2009: “Fuck you, you fucking homo faggot” and “you fucking jealous fags.” Hey CBS, nice work, douchebags. If I really wanted to watch a crowd of degenerates hate on minorities, I’d go to a Tea Party rally. At least there I might get my balls licked by Marcus Bachmann.