When Twitter diligently asks me "what's happening?", I should type
"another twilebrity is getting hacked, that's what!"
(I sincerely didn't intend to make this blog a photo album of tweetful
screenshots. It's just that...I spend so much time there...and I
happen to follow them...yeah...)
Posted via email from This Boy
Dear Britney's management team,
Hi, it's me again, Christina "Genie In A Bottle" Aguilera. I hope you
got my previous email about Britney's account getting hacked, again.
Don't you ever get tired of being the butt of all jokes? I mean,
where's Chris Crocker when you need him? And does he know, like,
technical internet stuff? Maybe you can hire him to manage Brit Brit's
Twitter so she doesn't get penetrated so fast and easy like that
hooker from the "Gimme More" music video, which by the way wasn't racy
and slutty AT ALL compared to my "Dirrty" music video. You got that,
mamasita? I'm the bigger slut here so quit fooling around as if she
knows cocksucking like I do because you're only making her look like a
stupid chonga wannabe.
Anyway, sorry about that rant. I'm just getting really concerned about
this invasion of celebrity privacy. Why isn't anyone invading mine?!?
What is wrong with you people?!? Are my boobs not big enough for
you?!?
Just wait till my kid gets into preschool. In my next music video, I'm
showing my untrimmed vagina. Full frontal close-up let's see you try
beating THAT!
P.S. For the record, I'm the Illuminati girl here, not her. Will some
paparazzi please take my damn picture already?!?
Sending love with "The Voice Within",
Xtina
Posted via email from This Boy
Dear Britney's management team,
I'm not sure how your brains work but "1234" is not a secure password.
Surprise! Now please quit getting hacked because I feel for Britney.
She doesn't deserve to be fat and hacked at the same time!
Okay, I'm kidding. I love it when her account gets pwned by 4chan
interweb geeks. But next time, try using "password" as your password.
Nobody would ever guess that! I've been using it for years now and my
privacy only gets invaded every three days. Three days!
P.S. If you're really sneaky, replace the "o" with a zero, as in
"passw0rd". NOBODY will guess that, trust me. Unless you're dealing
with an Agent from The Matrix. If that's the case then you are so
fucked.
All my best,
Christina Aguilera
Posted via email from This Boy
Rusty likes to sleep comfortably. His bedroom demeanor may imply alpha male proclivities (notice the laziness that comes with the extension of his furry paws) but rest assured I will do everything in my power to turn him as gay as Gloria Estefan. If you know of any downloadable gay porn for cats available online, please, let me know.
Posted via email from This Boy
This isn't to say debate is but a prolific waste of time. Hardly. This is only to say truth number two: nobody likes a know-it-all. Nobody likes a smartass. Nobody likes your academic superiority and nobody likes your academic snobbery. In Life Outside Debate, people will smile when you wax nostalgic of good old days spent reaching for speaker score 80 a.k.a. Jesus Christ Came Down From Heaven To Debate. These people will politely smile, listen intently and realize they couldn't give a shit.
And truth number three: don't talk too fast. People don't like that either.
Posted via email from This Boy
We've always known it's like a Brazilian cave down Britney's punani but what we didn't know is that this wondrous place of spelunking adventure is really a man-eating orifice with razor sharp teeth. I've always wondered what a Venus Flytrap would look like if it was a vagina and then, just like a universe conspiring to make my dreams come true, this happens. There are no pictures (sadly) but my visualization skills are a-maaay-zing cos I ain't no creative for nothing.
If you still want pictures, please google Brit Brit's shaved beaver photos (you horny motherfucker).
Posted via email from This Boy
And I don't even know this guy. Although he looks like an undercover sex maniac from Western Europe who preys on little boys and big girls (and when I say big I mean big fucking phat girls, political-correctness aside) but holds a day job at the local Red Cross center in Berlin or Amsterdam or anywhere prostitution is viewed as culturally awesome. I want to marry him and his Jamaican gradient and our wedding vows? It's all over his face.
Posted via email from This Boy
English translation:
Even if he's virile as a leather-clad S&M daddy from the 80's, Dakota still felt shivers down his spine. "What is this delicious travesty growing between my legs?"
Darby, or Emmery, or whatever his name is because the image is too fucking blurred, was also shaken in disbelief. "Dude. Your dick is, like, turning into, you know, a snake or something. Sweeeet."
And then suddenly... "Hiissssssshh I will cum on your faces with the sperm of a thousand Japanese pervs if you do not give me a little BJ hiissssssshh!"
To be continued
Posted via email from This Boy
A thank-you note for the incompetent, the indifferent and the plain stupid.
(image from www.leighreyes.com)
Posted via email from This Boy
The corporate mash-up of a cinema hallway, museum, Toys "R" Us and your friendly neighborhood park that moonlights as a cruise spot. One (that one being me) could only wish they turn it into a smoking area. Or a coffee shop. Or maybe just a smoking area.
Posted via email from This Boy