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9:51 a.m. - 2002-12-28


Help me out here...

I fully understand that every artist has his or her share of fans ... but seriously ... what mind-altering drugs must one be on to appreciate that which is Bjork?

I was watching VH1 Classics this morning and an old Sugarcubes video came on ... the group that Bjork first started in. Well ... she may have been in a band before the Sugarcubes, but this was the band that first brought her notoriety. Fuck me for not doing my research.'s just my opinion ... but I believe the gal is a talentless spook who may or may not be part aardvark.

Her singing technique centers around distorting her voice in a manner that can shred every nerve in your body with a single note. Her "pixie-ish" nose terrifies me. Her eyes are all ... I dunno ... they're fucked up somehow, but I can't look at her long enough to determine what it is that makes them all fucked up. But I'm willing to bet that you could rest a can of beer in between them easily.

Bottom line...she's one creepy fucking human freak show.

And all that shit I've given Mariah Carey over the years?

From here on out ... it's time to pick on Bjork.

For God's sakes...the least she could do is spell her name Beeyork, just so we Americans wouldn't stumble over it like a jagged curb every time we try to pronounce it.

At least that would cut down on the embarrassment factor for those of us who go to dinner parties and loudly exclaim "Good I ever hate that crazy bitch Buh-Jork!!"

What about this guy that won the lottery on Christmas Day??

The fucker was ALREADY a millionaire. He owns like 38 different businesses and admittedly doesn't need the money.

At least he's done the right thing and is giving three different churches like $13 million apiece.

Makes me kinda glad I just go to one church. If I walked away with $113 million after taxes ... I wouldn't mind giving my church $11 million. That's cool. I've still got $102 million. That's enough for a Play Station 2 and a few games.

But three churches??

Dude...there's only one God.

Well...there may be more than one. But most people only believe in one. That's what I mean.

If I was in his shoes, I'd donate to the church I go to the most. The other two churches would have to line up their prettiest women and have them service me in the most degrading ways possible before they got any more money out of me.


...No...not really.

I just flat out wouldn't give them any. Even if their women were nose deep in my ass.

Anyway, I saw this rich bastard on the "Today" show yesterday with his wife and granddaughter and when Matt Lauer asked his granddaughter what she wanted, she squealed "Nelly!!"

It's good to see she has her priorities straight.

"Matt, I wanna blow $10 million to get this gangsta rapper to screw my socks off!"

Wonderful, sweetie. Make your granddad reeeeeal proud, hokay??

I went to Barnes and Noble yesterday (because you can only masturbate so many times during the day once you've reached my age) and I saw some local author holding a book signing.

These poor people.

They always set up a table and chair right by the entrance with some cheap sign on the table saying "Meet Fred Lippinsnot ... Author of 'Erotic Cheese Sculptures'."

And there's Fred. Sitting alone with a stack of books in front of him with generic white covers and black lettering that look like he printed them all out on his computer. With a Sharpie pen in his hand and a sad look on his face.

...And everyone avoiding him like he was a Vietnam Vet manning a Salvation Army bucket in front of the mall.

You have to wonder what's going through this poor guy's brain as he sits there and watches people brush past him, doing their best to avoid eye contact with him.

He has to be wondering what went wrong with his life. All his life he wanted to be a successful writer. He finally gets a book published by a local publishing company with a name like "Swollen Ass Lip Publishing" and arranges a book signing at the local Barnes and Noble.

Then, he's treated like he's handing out anthrax while he's forced to sit for two hours next to a door that's letting in a late December draft the entire time.

He then packs up the same amount of books that he arrived with, save for one that a neighbor happened to buy only because they walked in, Fred called out their name and they felt pressured to buy an autographed copy of "Erotic Cheese Sculptures" because the guy knew where they lived.

What a sad excuse for a life.

I'm glad I've never done a book signing.

I do not think my fragile ego could handle it.

Speaking of books...apparently people are still buying the Guinness Book of World Records each year, as I noticed it was number six on the Nonfiction charts.

One question...why?

Are there THAT many people out there that are debating the size of the world's largest tapeworm removed from a guy's ass and need a reference book to settle the argument??

Is there that big of a market that has to know who's the fattest fucker in the world this year?

I had a copy of the Guinness Book of World Records when I was a kid.

That's all I ever copy.

I don't need to commit this shit to memory. I don't need to know who broke what record each year.

Yet apparently, I'm in the minority. Because each year, another edition hits the shelves and the freaks come out in droves to find out who can eat the most flying insects at a single sitting.

It's enough to make me buy a rifle and go off into the woods for the next 20 years until society gets its shit together and realizes that it doesn't need a copy of the Guinness Book of World Records each and every fucking year.

I think I need some caffeine.

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