Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Daffodil Daydreams

Ok, this has gone on far too long and I am no longer able to contain the caustic venom eating away inside me -- thus, I present to you, in no particular order:

People I Hate

By Vince "Pene Grande" Milo


The Verizon Guy

Everything about this guy, from his smug self-satisfied expression, to his pseudo-indie rock Elvis Costello glasses, makes me want to drive meathooks into his eye sockets and drag him behind a truck until he eventually disintegrates against the unforgiving pavement. Naturally, a pack of wild dogs would be in hot pursuit of my grisly chariot, greedily seizing upon his tender flesh."Can you hear me now?" I would cry from the cab, oblivious to his pitiful cries of agony. "Good! Now, though I'd love to take you up on your offer of casting my horoscope, I'm much too busy enjoying the sight of your flailing carcass being gradually torn to shreds by elements of both earth and beast." I don't know why I hate this guy so much, but I really really do.


The Geico Gecko

Though he isn't technically a person, he still pisses me off. Whoever thought it would be HILARIOUS to mix up the word Geico with gecko must have also thought that the dancing hamster from Blockbuster, and the outrageous, yet appropriately named, Oven Mitt (voiced by "funnyman" Tom Arnold) from Arby's were, on a scale of 1-10 on the Laff-O-Meter(tm), an 1,000,000!!!1~!1 Obviously, our only recourse is to round these people up, seal them in an airtight capsule, and release them into the icy-waters of the North Atlantic, never to be spoken of again.


Paris Hilton

Nothing speaks more volumes about the social retardation of America than the rise of former non-publicly-fucked hotel heiress Paris Hilton. Apparently, just being a ridiculous, undeservedly rich, human blow-up-doll no longer warrants national distinction. She makes me hate everyone in the whole world.


Terry Bradshaw

What a fucking doofus. I wish I could get paid millions of dollars to be an annoying dipshit sportscaster who not only gives "hilarious" and "laugh-out loud" unnecessary game commentary along with fellow former-overrated-football-star-turned-not-funny-commercial-douchebag Howie Long, but who also found time to make equally "wacky" brain-destroying 1-800-COLLECT commercials along with fellow "laugh riots" Toby Keith and Alf. The trick here would be to first seal the exits during the taping of Fox NFL Sunday. Meanwhile, deploy Zyklon-B gas through the air-conditioning ducts and let the show begin. The ensuing carnage, as Howie and Jimmy Johnson dismember JB and unsuccessfully attempt to use his femur to pry open the studio doors, would no doubt leave American audiences so traumatized that they would collectively renounce all the stupid shit their lives have revolved around since they were born and take up international hospitality or something gay like that.


Bono

Oh, shut the fuck up.


Praise the Lord

char·la·tan
n.
A person who makes elaborate, fraudulent, and often voluble claims to skill or knowledge; a quack or fraud.
You gotta hand it to these people, tricking the blacks and elderly into believing that if they pay you enough money, you will pray for them, is pure marketing genius. But what really pisses me off about this show is that no one seems to notice the fact that it's co-produced by a whorish pink-haired abomination named Jan. Now Jan, like Marduk, the fell demon god of Babylon, knows an opportunity when she sees it, and she's not going to let a little thing like a horrible disaster in an impoverished third-world country go unexploited. The fact that God hasn't already struck down these assholes on live national television with His mighty wrath -- more than any Nietschzean, existentialist, or post-structuralist thought -- has proven to me that He truly does not exist.


Freddie Prinz Jr.

Freddie Prinz Jr. has always been a living dildo, but ever since She's All That, he really rose to the top of my official list of People I Would Enjoy Watching Being Slowly Lowered into Molten Lava (PIWEWBSLML).


Lars Ulrich

I'm not sure if I hated Lars Ulrich before the whole Napster thing, but I definitely hated Metallica. Now however, I just hate Lars Ulrich -- particularly his stupid fucking face (see above). It was bad enough that Metallica ever became popular in the first place, much less that they sold out and cut their hair, much less that they filed a lawsuit against Napster with Lars "Forehead" Ulrich as their spokesman. I suppose he was the only member of the band coherent enough to open his fat smarmy face and complain that the Jacuzzi feature in his stretch hummer wasn't going to buy itself. God I hate him. Fortunately, his entire purpose in life has been rendered null and void thanks to Gnutella, Shareaza, Limewire, BitTorrent, MLDonkey, FastTrack, Morpheus, eMule, BearShare, and Kazaa Lite. Say, maybe God does exist after all.


Puff Daddy

po·seur
n.
One who affects a particular attribute, attitude, or identity to impress or influence others.
Also, in this case, one who pretends to have talent in order to impress or influence others. P. Diddy, or as I like to call him, Piece of Shitty , is an enigma. Here is a guy who has no musical ability, no rapping ability, has a stupid name, steals other people's music and calls it "sampling", has a stupid expression on his face all the time, and he dropped his mic when he was "performing" his cover of Led Zeppelin's Kashmir on Saturday Night Live. And yet, he makes millions of dollars, has had sex with J.Lo (though, like all things touched by Ben Affleck, this accomplishment has devalued), and continues to rear his disqualified head on my TV. To get to the bottom of this conundrum I had the good fortune of scoring an interview with Mr. Shitty himself, here's a "sample":

SirChumps: How ever do you do it P.?

P. Diddy4823: Well it all started by riding on the coat-tails of actual rappers. Then, I took music that had already been written and "rapped" over it. Then I sold this garbage to people who don't know any better.

SirChumps: Your national recognition as an artist shames us all.

P. Diddy4823: Well it's like the song goes: As long as you are completely devoid of anything resembling talent, America will rise up to embrace you. This one goes out to you Big Poppa, wherever you are -- take it away, Sting.

SirChumps has logged off


Kittens

I absolutely, positively, unequivocally HATE kittens, they represent all that's evil in this -- awwww, how can I be mad at you little scamps? Who's a pretty kitty? Who's a pretty kitty? You are! You are!


The End

There you have it folks, this took way more time than I thought so don't expect me to do anything like this ever again.


Your friend,
Morrisey

1 Comments:

Blogger Jeff said...

i hate your face.

10/12/2004 11:08 PM  

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