I was watching the Flavor of Love on VH1 the other day because that's how low I've sunk, and girl A tells Flav that girl B is a porn star after girl B told girls C-J that girl A gave Flav a quote "hand job" end quote. Flav then conducted some intensive online research, for which I'm sure he received a prestigious funding opportunities. He then outed girl B in the elimination portion of the show by holding up evidence of girl B's endeavors for girls A and C-J to admire. Girl B did not receive a fancy clock necklace, but she got to keep the printout of herself diddling ... uh ... her. I checked. That's actually grammatically correct.

Now you have saved yourself the trouble of watching the episode, and I have conducted a keyword experiment that includes both pornography and the Guggenheim Foundation. Solid.

This seems to be a Public Enemy oriented blog Trackbacks (1)  |  Permanent Link  |  Cosmos

I have received some crushing blows lately, but this, this is really sad.

When Gracie was learning to talk, we used to watch the Crocodile Hunter a lot because it's completely awesome. She used to point at the television and say "Papa!" My dad has these crazy feathered bangs. He's had them since 1974 at least. He also tends to only button his shirts half way up under the theory that the ladies dig chest fur. Typing that made me throw up in my mouth.

My dad does bear an attenuated resemblence to the late (sniff) Steve Irwin.


Much love goes out to Terri, Bhindi Sue, and small little baby Bob. Your dad was never going to let them eat you, shorty.