Guinness World Record-breaker, Pete Wentz, and coattail-rider turned family meal-ticket, Ashlee Simpson (I almost spelled it Ashley… heavenstamergatroid!), have given birth to something they named Bronx Mowgli Wentz.
There’s one of two ways I can go with this, so I’ll go with both.
People can type Bronx Mowgli Wentz to test their typewriter. Ha! Y’know… like The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. No… um… then how about…
Bronx Mowgli Wentz? That’s an anagram of what Pete likes to do when he’s in Germany – Blow Next Zing Worm. Hey-o!
Ah, whatever. Congrats you two (because I know in my heart of hearts they are going to find this little blog and be heartbroken if I don’t say so)… and also, please stop reproducing!
A recent discussion at the bar prompted an exchange about what song can get a random alcoholic’s head bopping (and sometimes, toe tapping). I proposed this ditty (not to be confused with Diddy, who as yet, has not sampled this song):
Another person at the bar whole-heartedly disagreed and brought up this tune as the great anthem:
RUFKM? I barely remembered that song (although one can never forget David Hasselhoffmeister). I argued it couldn’t qualify as a head bopping, toe tapper. He had to remind me of this:
(Continued after the jump) Read More
Natural disaster and “Mean Girls” actress, Lindsay Lohan, is about to one up the title of the film that made her a star-on-the-verge-of-something-more. You know… she’ll be the Meanest Girl.
Samantha Ronson, the DJ-on-the-vag-of-someone-more-famous, has expressed her desire to marry the love of her life, LiLo.
But as all the tabs and blogs have said all along (not verbatim) – you can take the penis out of the white trash, but you really can’t.
A source tells British newspaper the News of the World, “Linds is on the brink because Sam won’t leave her side. Whenever she does, Lindsay’s on the phone telling her mates she’s decided she’s not a lesbian.
“Of course she still has feelings for Sam – but she also feels like she has to escape.”
Currently going down in Lindsay’s leggings (from her 6126 clothing line, duh!):
Vagina: L, I’m lonely. Lindsay: Whatever do you mean? Sammy’s always been good to you. Vagina: But L, she’s not enough. Lindsay: Sammy knows you inside and out. She understands you and takes care of you. Vagina: I know… Lindsay: What’s the problem then? Anus: Okay, you got me! It’s not the Vagina, all right! You know Sammy’s disgusted by me. But the boys… the boys are really into me… Lindsay: You’re right. You win. You should have told me it was you all along. Anus: Amen to that, sister! Emphasis on men. Lindsay: Mm-hmm.
This is kind of old news, but if you haven’t heard about it – Hey! Hot off the press!
I heard the screeching mess that is Beyonce – er, I mean Sasha Fierce, grrrr – on the radio today, and it trudged up my Capra-esque rage on behalf of the little man. The screeching mess in question: “If I Were a Boy.” The little man in question: cutie BC Jean (pic from Crazed Hits).
SIDENOTE: You can hear her (original, better) version of the song on that site, or on her site which has a pretty cool piano interface (hee hee, interface… I don’t know what that’s means).
The source of my fury stems from a conspiracy that goes like this: producer Toby Gad co-wrote the song with BC, then he went behind BC’s back and sold it to Beyonce (I originally wrote Bitchonce, but you could see the flop it would have been… perhaps Bitchyonce? Buttyonce?) And since no one involved has mentioned anything further in the press, I assume BC was either fiscally compensated or fiscally threatened (see how I did that?) by tubby’s hubby, H.O.V.A.
The thing that I think makes me maddest is it doesn’t work! (You seriously have to listen to both versions to understand my upset) Beyonce is not a twenty-something MySpace girl! Some might say the lyrics apply to women from all walks of life. Others might say I just hate Beyonce. Mostly everybody would be right… mostly.
Take a step into the barley and hops time machine with, while I recount my early crushes… in poem – I mean, rap:
Trini Alvarado in Altman’s “Rich Kids”/
Young Madison in “Splash” when they were just kids/
Princess Leia ridin’ on Jabba’s dirt skiff/
New Leave It to Beaver’s niece, Kaleena Kiff/
Got a little older with Mathilda May/
F-ed up in the head, crushin’ on Lady Jaye/
Jami Gertz was sure one hot Solarbaby/
Kim Cattrall was a doll from Egypt, baby/
Babysit with that babe, Elisabeth Shue/
Debbie Gibson brought love from outta the blue/
Amanda Peterson learned that love is free/
Brooke Theiss… Jamie Luner… how ’bout just us three/
Amy Dolenz is da bomb outta control/
…Still a little f-ed up for diggin’ Ariel…
(I tried to find pictures of them all, but I decided Google image searching kids might not be a smart idea.)
I don’t know what it is about this song that simultaneously makes me want to run around and scoop peoples’ eyes out with sporks and stick ’em on kabobs, and also to hop around on alternating feet shaking my fists like maracas, acting like I’m Jim Carrey and Robin Williams’ love child.
Maybe their love child would want to scoop peoples’ eyes out with sporks…
In the many, many random discussions I have with friends and family, there’s one I had awhile ago that I can’t quite shake.
Over the course of the ramblings (mind you, these topics flowed seamlessly into each other somehow), my cousin, Steve, and I touched upon Vh1’s “Freakiest Concert Moments,” wearing plastic training pants in a strip club, and how to go about renting a steamroller.
About the Vh1 special: Apparently, some band made a bet with their manager and he lost, or they won (I cannot find this story anywhere… plus I cannot watch Vh1 – except for “Surreal Life”). Anythewho, the manager (or agent) had to hang upside down over the drummer nude during the show. The band forgot about him and by the time they remembered, he had passed out. I was expecting the tale to end with his eyes shooting out of his head, or to discover he suffered some serious brain damage (more than the drugs that caused the bet to go through ever could). The true finale is even better. He had passed out quite early during the show because he was trying to shit on the drummer to get his attention. He tried so hard it made him pass out.
I tried to imagine how one might go about shitting while upside down. You would obviously have to try to grab your ankles, right? In order to aim down? Because the last thing you’d want to experience while hanging upside down in the buff is to feel a trail of your own crap running up your back and into your hair. I’m just saying.
(The rest of this exciting JusWondering to follow later… And if anyone has a clue which rock band this happened to, please comment below!)
As powerful as expected, President Elect Barack Obama gave his victory speech in Chicago’s Grant Park last night. My sister, Becky, was there to witness it as it happened.
I was just there over the weekend, as I mentioned in another post, to see the Lions get beat by the Bears, barely. (I was wearing my #20 Seanders jersey, and you better believe I was the nicest guy in Soldier Field ever, but I digress.) I was kind of waiting for the inevitable to happen before I revealed this, but… I found a copy of Obama’s first draft of the speech.
It turned up in a trash bin outside of a Potbelly near Michigan Avenue. What was I doing looking in the trash, you might wonder, and rather than let your mind wander, I’ll share this… my sister threw out half of her cookie I totally would have eaten!
Some highlights from the speech, followed by excerpts of the alleged first draft:
He opened the speech with talk of the American dream, and about the people that waited in record lines to vote.
It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.
He originally planned to finish that statement with this: “…of states of confusion and states of clarity.”
After more positivity, he spoke about his opponent:
Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he’s fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.
I thought this part would have been nice had he kept it: “And wasn’t he great on Saturday Night Live? The part about the Joe action figures, and the pork knives… heck, the whole thing was pretty hilarious.”
I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they’ve achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.
“Oh, and thanks, again Senator for choosing the Governor as your running mate. Really, really thanks.”
He goes on to thank Vice President Elect Joe Biden, his wife, his children, his grandmother that passed away the day before the election, and the rest of his family. Then he brought up his friends.
And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best — the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America. To my chief strategist David Axelrod who’s been a partner with me every step of the way.
“And Bill… you know who you are, and where you are. Whether you’re above ground, or underground.”
But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.
“And to you, and you, and you… (point at random people for about ten minutes).”
The remainder pretty much remained the same, except for the very ending.
This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.
Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.
“And thanks for taking a chance on me.” Then he planned to close with one of these songs:
Or Flo Rida’s hit:
(Full actual transcript from CNN here. Full actual video of speech here.)
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