Xenu Targeting Mad Men’s Elisabeth Moss As Tom Cruise’s Next Beard

Why Xenu, WHY?!?

Why Xenu, WHY?!?

This week the National Enquirer, a shiny beacon of journalistic integrity, reported that Tom Cruise and his litigious posse of alien-worshippers have zeroed in on Elisabeth Moss, who they hope to cast as his next leading lady. Why they keep casting a part the leading man doesn’t want in his life is anybody’s guess.

Under different circumstances, it’d be easy to write this craziness off as nothing more than the creative musings of an unscrupulous gossip-peddler that loves the sizzle, but not the steak. And that would be great, because this news is both jarring and sad.

This is a man with crazy to spare

This is a man with crazy to spare

Unfortunately, in this case, dismissing it entirely is not an option. First of all, the Enquirer may be seedy and sleazy, but they’re not always wrong—just ask John Edwards, assuming you can find him. Then there’s the plausibility of the story itself. As ludicrous as the practice of “auditioning” women for a “romantic” relationship sounds, that’s just how Cruise rolls—balls deep in creepy and crazy.

Finally, our dear friend Peggy Olson is, regrettably, in her real life, a Scientologist. Bringing someone new into a cult is a recipe for disaster, a mistake which Cruise has already learned twice. Promoting from within is almost always the best way to go, which is a particularly apt metaphor, given how much this all sounds like a job interview for a terrible job that nobody should ever want.

Peggy Olson would NOT approve of this coupling, I'm sure of it

Peggy Olson would NOT approve of this coupling, I’m sure of it

At this point there has been more than enough accounts from varying sources published about Cruise’s “courtship” of Katie Holmes—not to mention failed and abandoned attempts to “woo” other women—that to suggest it’s completely untrue would be ridiculous.

Per the Enquirer via Celebitchy

“Friends think it would be great for both of them — and Scientology,” said an insider.

According to the source, church leaders would probably “be delighted to have their leading member become involved with another celebrity Scientologist.” By all indications, Tom and Elisabeth — called Lizzie by friends — would make an ideal high-profile couple.

“Lizzie is beautiful, smart, and a little quirky,” said the insider. “She can hold her own in the spotlight, and marrying Tom would be good for both their careers. She has no children of her own and would be an ideal candidate to have one with Tom.”

And Tom is overdue for a new romance. She hasn’t had much luck since Katie Holmes shocked him with court papers in 2012 and asked for sole custody of their now-7-year-old daughter Suri. “Tom misses the companionship of a woman.”

Ugh. This is terrible and inexplicably weird on so many levels. So much terrible…so…much…weird.

Let’s start with that bit about missing the companionship of a woman. Have you ever seen a “straight” man more comfortable on his own and more awkward with a woman than Tom fucking Cruise? He and Katie Holmes never share even one mutual kiss in their entire marriage.

Either Cruise would initiate the kiss, or Holmes would, and the other would comply with the demeanor most commonly associated with bank tellers during an armed robbery.

Keeping him still with a vice grip to the face—good strategy

Keeping him still with a vice grip to the face—good strategy

She REALLY doesn't want to be there

She REALLY doesn’t want to be there

Now HE really doesn't want to be there

Now HE really doesn’t want to be there

Here NEITHER of them want to be there

Here NEITHER of them want to be there

Cheek kisses became the comfortable norm after awhile

Cheek kisses became the comfortable norm after awhile

Then they became the UNcomfortable norm—check out those crazy eyes on Holmes

Then they became the UNcomfortable norm—check out those crazy eyes on Holmes

After awhile, this was all either of them could stomach

After awhile, this was all either of them could stomach

And obviously it's not just a Katie Holmes specific issue

And obviously it’s not just a Katie Holmes specific issue

Cruise doesn’t miss the companionship of a woman, he misses having one on his arm to make him look less gay at work functions. Which is fair enough. Obviously he’s not going to be quite that honest about it, but skipping the romantic platitudes would be less condescending to the public.

That’s why this engagement-arrangement in the making makes a lot of sense for Cruise—he needs her. His allure with fans has faded dramatically in recent years, so has his once mighty muscle at the box office. He’s got three failed marriages in the books and is officially in his 50s now.

Red. Flag.

Red. Flag.

Moss, on the other hand, is currently at the peak of her career and still climbing. Mad Men is entering its last season this year and the future is very bright for the 31-year-old actress. Getting mixed up with Cruise, who is 20-years her senior, will surely bring that to a screeching halt.

After all, Katie Holmes was in a very similar position when she signed on the dotted line with Cruise in 2006. She was coming off a successful run on Dawson’s Creek, landing plum roles in Thank You For Smoking and Batman Begins. Then Mr. Couch Jumper came along and she barely worked again for the next five years. Holmes even turned down the opportunity to reprise her role in The Dark Knight.

Don't do it, girl. We're begging you.

Don’t do it, girl. We’re begging you.

Sadly, the same is destined for Elisabeth Moss if she’s as starry-eyed and eager to walk this plank as her predecessors. The only difference being she doesn’t have decades of good sense to draw on like Holmes. Moss was born and raised a Scientologist, meaning this kind of freak show shit is second nature to her.

Looks like Xenu wins again...

Looks like Xenu wins again…

So the best we can really hope for is that Moss ends up being sterile so these two idiots can’t reproduce. Fingers crossed.

It’s Time To Get Real About The Societal Bullying…Of Tyrannosaurus Rex

Holding someone's dreams against them. Doesn't get much meaner than that.

Holding someone’s dreams against them. Doesn’t get much meaner than that.

Today, more than ever, bullying is treated as a legitimate threat to society, as opposed to just another growing pain we all must endure. Bullying seems to become of particular concern to the public when the individual target is someone (or something, but mostly someone) considered weak due to age, size or physical disability.

After all, there’s nothing this country loves more than an underdog. Need proof? Just look at damn near every sports movie ever made. The Cleveland Indians in Major League, Rudy Ruettiger in Rudy, Jonathan Moxon in Varsity Blues, the Ducks in The Mighty Ducks franchise—these are the folks Americans love to love.

Losers of the lovable variety.

Losers of the lovable variety.

What we really love is the opportunity to take an…overdog…down a few pegs. YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME? Gold-digging heiress Rachel Phelps, Notre Dame, coach Bud Kilmer, and every villainous foe the Ducks encountered in those three movies—particularly that jag from Iceland—are tailor-made for us to hate.

Villains always wear green.

Villains always wear green.

Same goes for the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Once considered the most fearsome and ruthless carnivore to ever roam the Earth, in recent years “science” seems to have gone out of its way to disprove that notion. The gloriously gruesome T-Rex portrayed in Jurassic Park back in 1993 has, in two decades, been relegated to nothing more than an oversized vulture with anger issues.

The good old days.

The good old days.

These days.

These days.

Truth be told, there’s no way to know exactly how any dinosaur behaved. Figuring out what they looked like is easy enough through fossils and bones, but words like “maybe” and “probably” and “likely” are most often used as qualifiers by paleontologists speculating on the behavior and personality of a given dinosaur.

If dinosaurs really looked like this, it's proof there is no God.

If dinosaurs really looked like this, it’s proof there is no God.

It all boils down to the fact that it’s very hard for us to make sense of an animal that can reach five stories (like the Brachiosaurus at 56 ft) in height, but still be covered in some type of feathers.

We hear “feathers” and think…pigeons…seagulls…turkeys…chickens—instantly knocking the dinosaur in question down a peg.

And in popular culture, is there any dinosaur worth of being knocked off its high horse than a Tyrannosaurus Rex? Probably not, but it’s not entirely fair.

Although I disagree with the statement, I understand the sentiment.

Although I disagree with the statement, I understand the sentiment.

The T-Rex was never the maniacal villain portrayed in Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park—and that’s not his (or her!) fault. The unflattering fictional portrayal of the T-Rex caused a visceral reaction of fear and loathing in most people who, despite several millennia of evolution, still fundamentally fear becoming part of the food chain.

In recent years news that the Tyrannosaurus Rex may have been part scavenger, rather than a full-time bone-crushing badass, has led to the surprisingly prevalent idea that the T-Rex was, for lack of a better word, a pussy. Rebranding a predator as a pussy is very empowering, which is why so many people have run with this.

Smart money is on the giant dinosaur.

Smart money is on the giant dinosaur.

So what’s the problem?

Well, for one, how about the fact that the T-Rex was unquestionably massive as fuck. As one of the largest land carnivores of all time, they routinely grew to as much as 13ft tall, 40 ft long and weighed from five to 10 tons. The average weighed in at a svelte 15,400 lbs—more than 100x your average human.

COME AT ME BRO

COME AT ME BRO

Considering that remarkable disparity, I’ve found most of the jokes about the Tyrannosaurus Rex, which is by far my favorite dinosaur, to be shockingly uncouth, insensitive and otherwise completely impolite and lacking in political correctness.

HA HA. Get it? It's funny because his buddy died!

HA HA. Get it? It’s funny because his buddy died!

Perhaps calling the dreaded “PC police” to investigate a matter involving an oversized lizard that’s been extinct for 65 million years is a little excessive—at least on the surface. But that’s only because they seem so far removed from us. Put people in the same spot and it doesn’t take long to recognize the ugliness that’s become commonplace online when “joking” about the T-Rex.

Please note that the following examples are being used to illustrate a point, not to mock the disabled. Not that such a warning is going to stop manufactured anger and outrage, but at least I tried.

T-Rex version.

T-Rex version.

Human version.

Human version.

Not cool.

Dinosaur version.

T-Rex version.

Human version.

Human version.

Also, not cool.

T-Rex version.

T-Rex version.

Human version.

Human version.

So very not cool.

That being said, I feel like I’m probably walking a pretty fine line with human recreations, so I’m going to go ahead and cool it with them before things get out of hand. If you have a point worth making, it shouldn’t take any more than three examples to convey it anyway.

The point, in this instance, being that we (and by we I mean y’all) have swung back too far in the opposite direction.

Remember the heartwarming ending of the Mighty Ducks, when the Ducks overcame all obstacles to beat the Hawks and Gordon Bombay quit his soul-sucking lawyer job in grand fashion and learned to love hockey again? Well, imagine it was 10 minutes longer and after beating the Hawks, the Ducks dragged them outside and beat the shit out of them for a few hours, all while laughing maniacally. Dark shit, I know.

Beating the bully? Good. Beating the bully to death and loving every second of it? Bad.

This is the kind of stuff I’m talking about:

T-Rex's preschool years were obviously traumatizing.

T-Rex’s preschool years were obviously traumatizing.

What does this even mean? Is Tea Rex a pussy because he's English, or is he English because he's a pussy?

What does this even mean?
Is Tea Rex a pussy because he’s English, or is he English because he’s a pussy?

I can't even decide if this one is mean. It just FEELS mean because of all the others.

I can’t even decide if this one is mean. It just FEELS mean because of all the others.

Imagine the internet being a vast monument dedicated to mocking your shortcomings.

Imagine the internet being a vast monument dedicated to mocking your shortcomings.
Which is kinda what it is for Lindsay Lohan.

I see what they did there...the right to BEAR arms is way better.

I see what they did there…the right to BEAR arms is way better.

Ladies can relate to this one—and it's no laughing matter.

Ladies can relate to this one—and it’s no laughing matter.

T-Rex just can't win.

T-Rex just can’t win.

What if YOU had a physical limitation that prevented you from capably lie to your friends?

What if YOU had a physical limitation that prevented you from capably lying to your friends?

I'm not surprise T-Rex has anxiety issues.

I’m not surprised T-Rex has anxiety issues.

The birthday hat cartoon might be the meanest I've seen yet.

The birthday hat cartoon might be the meanest I’ve seen yet.
In fact, it’s one of the meanest things I’ve seen EVER.

You see what I’m saying?

We’re always telling kids, “it gets better,” but that’s not necessarily the case. Fundamentally, most people are opportunists at their core—and a lot of those cores are rotten. Sometimes it gets better. Other times it just gets worse, mostly because people’s concern about bullying is very limited in scope.

At least humans have, to some degree, a modicum of control over how they’re seen and portrayed. The much maligned Tyrannosaurus Rex, being non-human and totally extinct, has none. Their existence as we know it is at the mercy of science and their reputation at the mercy of countless snarky jagweeds.

You think T-Rex hates benching and bongos? That's nothing compared to his contempt for science.

You think T-Rex hates benching and bongos? That’s nothing compared to his contempt for science.

Now that I’ve spent this much time and energy in an effort to hold this giant mirror up to the face of society, all I ask is that society take a long hard look at itself while reciting the Golden Rule: Do unto other as you would have others do unto you.

And just remember when some crazy scientist clones a dinosaur and Jurassic Park happens in real life (shut up!), T-Rex is a grudge holder. With or without feathers, dude can still swallow you whole—all the tiny arm mocking in the world won’t change that.

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Don’t Let Anyone Say Otherwise, Your HIMYM Finale Outrage Is Warranted

Fuck these people.

Fuck these people.

On Monday night the final episode of CBS’ How I Met Your Mother aired, ending a highly successful run that lasted nine seasons and 208 episodes. And, as often is the case with the ending of beloved television shows, the finale is surely to become a lightning rod of fan rage.

To understand the fan devotion to HIMYM, I believe it’s essential that someone have been a fan of the series at one point. I became a fan of the show during its third season, which was a little confusing, but I quickly caught up on the story via reruns.

Understanding the compelling backstory between Ted Mosby, Lily Aldrin, Marshall Eriksen, Robin Scherbatsky and Barney Stinson was vital, not only to following the show, but also loving its characters as well. And loving its characters was key to putting aside the narrative’s many shortcomings and watching anyway.

HIMYM was one of my favorite shows for a few years after I got hooked on it. I loved the first three seasons that I missed, and I loved the next four seasons that I experienced as a devoted fan. Then the frustration began to overwhelm me and I consciously checked out, catching episodes only occasionally through the last two years.

As the show’s ridiculously hyped hyped final season progressed, I attempted to force myself back into the fold, for reasons unknown. Peer pressure, maybe. I stopped the moment I realized the entire season would be nothing but the days leading up Robin and Barney’s wedding, a coupling that was ridiculous the first time it failed.

Imagine if Friends’  final season was dedicated to the coupling of Rachel and Joey, and nothing else. That is a particularly apt comparison, given that HIMYM borrowed way too much from Friends over its run—essentially doing the same thing they did over a decade, but worse.

Because I had committed some amount of time and energy to the show over the years, I decided to tune in for the last two episodes of the series, thinking I might regret it otherwise. Now that they’ve both aired, all I can say is that I regret even bothering.

If you haven’t seen the finale of HIMYM, please note SPOILERS AHEAD! 

Also, if that’s something you really care about, get a life. I’m so sick of hearing about spoilers from idiots on Twitter. If you are so spoiler adverse, how about you try staying off social media for a couple of hours? Anyway.

SERIOUSLY, fuck these people.

SERIOUSLY, fuck these people.

As far as the finale goes, the only thing that sucked about it was everything. 

First of all, you remember all those episodes devoted to the ‘will they or won’t they’ nuptials of Barney and Robin? Well, they did and their wedding was beautiful. Oh…but guess what! They pretty much got divorced…like a minute later.

Barney went on to have a bastard child with one of his nameless skanks and becomes the ridiculously annoying doting parent that pollutes Facebook pages worldwide. And Robin? Well, she becomes a crybaby lamenting the way life unfolds for those around her because she never finds love or happiness. Basically, she becomes Ted.

Then there’s Lily and Marshall. Literally nothing happens with them except for that they stay together and make everyone feel like lesser people for not having such an amazing relationship.

Everything these two had to learn about themselves, and life, happened in the first two seasons of the show. Nothing else mattered once they were back together. They have a bunch more kids and Marshall decides he’s going to run for state Supreme Court. Surprise, surprise.

Then there’s Ted Mosby.

Ugh…Ted…fucking…Mosby.

If you didn’t already hate Ted by the time the HIMYM finale aired, well then you haven’t been watching close enough. This guy might be the most manipulative, vapid, narcissistic phony in the history of television. And that’s on his best days!

The entire premise of HIMYM was built upon a story Ted is telling to his two children, which was supposedly about their mother. The story was certainly framed in a way that suggests it’s about their mother.

Even the title of the show suggests the story we’ve all been watching play out for nine seasons was about Ted and the mother of his children.

Something I noticed during the show and PLENTY of fans agreed with.

Something I noticed during the show and PLENTY of fans agreed with.

So what’s the problem? Uh…the problem is that it was never a story about Ted and, what turned out to be the DEAD mother of his children. That’s right boys and girls, the mother in How I Met Your Mother turned out to be a woman who died six years before the story even began.

As it turned out, the only reason the vile narcissistic Ted was even telling the story to begin with was to get his kids on board with the idea of him chasing after “Aunt Robin” again. That’s right boys and girls, the whole fucking thing was A SCAM.

Classic Ted.

Now, because this is a television show, there are going to be plenty of people out there who discount the anger felt by fans. And, in a way, that’s very understandable. I mean…there are kids starving in Africa and other truly terrible things playing out all over the world constantly.

But in the real world in which we’re not all personally responsible for the starving children and other truly terrible things playing out all over the world, being outraged by this nonsense is (at least a little) warranted.

Even as a casual fan, I recognize all the time wasted caring about this stupid show and the imaginary characters in it. It’s one of the few things I’ve allowed myself to get invested in over the years. It’s sad enough to get “invested” in TV, but it’s so much worse when you realize you’ve been scammed.

HIMYM treated their passionate viewing audience with the same disdain it treated Ted Mosby’s poor kids. The difference is that the kids, whose ending was scripted, happily accepted the shit sandwich that had been served to them over the last decade. They’re fake, after all, and don’t have to deal with any of the real life implications stemming from his nonsense.

For all the non-fictional folks who have been spoon fed the same bullshit and wasted countless hours of their real lives being interested, it’s going to be a lot harder to stomach it with a smile.

Lee Barnathan, Writer/Editor/Blogger/Storyteller, Ripped Off My Work

Screen Shot 2014-02-25 at 2.12.12 AM

A few weeks ago I stumbled across an entire post of mine for Bleacher Report, which was ripped off word-for-word by a “writer” at Elite Daily. I contacted the site and the offending post was immediately removed, the explanation being that the site was in its infancy a year ago and standards were low.

I chose not to do a post calling out the author, who actually denied any wrongdoing, because of the quick action taken by the site. Given the explanation I received from them and his vehement denial, it certainly seemed plausible that the work was wrongly attributed to him, and I didn’t feel comfortable calling him out publicly.

The piece was published just days after mine and existed online for a full calendar year before I just happened to stumble upon it.

The incident bothered me greatly, but the time that had passed since its initial publication somehow served softened the blow of having my hard work stolen. In the case of supposed writer/editor/blogger/storyteller Lee Barnathan, he’s unfortunate in that I stumbled across his plagiarism at a much earlier date.

Screen Shot 2014-02-25 at 12.10.05 AM

First off, let me explain plagiarism in this case. What he stole from me were actually the words of others, so it might not technically qualify. Though there is no question that Mr. Barnathan ripped off several days worth of my hard work and passed it off as his own.

Last week I published “100 Amazing Sports Quotes” for Bleacher Report, which may sound like a throwaway assignment, but I put over 30 hours of work into it, hoping it would come across as anything but. I was rewarded for the extra effort with over 100,000 views in under four days.

Three days after publication I was asked by B/R to go back through the slideshow and source the quotes, which I probably should’ve done to begin with. That’s when I stumbled across Barnathan’s post entitled “Sports People Say the Darndest Things,” published less than 48 hours after my original piece.

Barnathan took 14 direct quotes from my B/R piece—the only place online to find them together—and published them as though they were the part of his own original idea and/or research. Nowhere did he link to my piece or credit me for the work.

Screen Shot 2014-02-25 at 2.47.23 AM

I’ve been told by many that having my work ripped off should validate me as a writer or flatter me in some way. I only wish that’s how it made me feel. Instead I feel robbed, marginalized, disregarded and otherwise invalidated. As though my work is too insignificant to warrant being treated with respect.

In the past I haven’t made it a habit of looking for this occurrence, which I’ve now stumbled upon twice in last month, but in the future I will be more diligent. If someone with the supposed credentials of Barnathan is willing to use my work as a shortcut, who knows where it stops.

This is my effort to stop it right here. Or, at the very least, stop my own complacency.

Is It Mean To Point Out This Figure Skater Didn’t Shave Her Pits?

saywhatwhat saywhatActually, I guess I shouldn’t ask questions I already know the answers to.

Yes, obviously it’s mean to point out that China’s Kexin Zhang didn’t shave her pits. That being said, I’m pointing it out anyway.

Isn’t that what feminism is all about?

Pamela Anderson Remarried The Guy From The Paris Hilton Sex Tape. That’s Right, REmarried!

Image via Twitter: @PamelaDAnderson

Image via Twitter: @PamelaDAnderson

Given the stunningly wide array of dirtbags rapidly aging Baywatch babe Pamela Anderson has intercoursed over the years, it’s actually almost impressive that she’s only been married four times. At least it would be, if two of those marriages hadn’t been to certified scuzzbucket, Rick Salomon, who has also been married four times.

That’s not to say that Anderson’s previous dating/marriage record is anything to brag about—it’s really not. Her marriage to rocker Tommy Lee resulted in a couple of kids, a divorce and, potentially, hepatitis C. Her marriage to hillbilly rocker Kid Rock resulted in divorce and, mostly likely, countless Jeff Foxworthy punchlines.

This happened. Sadly.

This happened. Sadly.

But Rick Salomon is an entirely different beast. For anyone not familiar with Salomon’s “work,” here are a few highlights off his Wikipedia page, which he mostly likely wrote himself. That’s giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming he’s not completely illiterate—a pretty big leap. You’re welcome, Rick.

Now, according to Wikipedia, Rick Salomon is a “film producer and celebutante known for his relationships with various female celebrities.” First of all, “celebutante” is a synonym for Hilton or Kardashian, which means famous for being famous. So there’s that.

As for his “film producer” credit, it seems to be limited to 1 Night in Paris, the dimly lit sex tape he shot with his ex-girlfriend, dimwitted socialite Paris Hilton. Making him solely responsible for unleashing the human plague of locusts best known as the Hilton family (women) on the world. Thanks, Rick.

So did this. ::Barf::

So did this. ::Barf::

Then there are, of course, his other “celebrity” exes. Aside from Hilton, you’ve got former French model Devon Aoki, aging Playboy centerfold Nicole Marie Lenz, “glamour” model Rachel Sterling and Stefani Morgan who is, naturally, a former porn star.

Oh! And according to Morgan’s Wikipedia page, “her current whereabouts are unknown.” I have no way of verifying that information—a quick Google search failed me—but I also have no way of verifying that Salomon wasn’t directly involved with the disappearance of a beloved porn star.

The most famous of his exes is “bad girl” Shannen Doherty, who played Brenda Walsh in Beverly Hills 90210 and completely dropped off the face of the Earth after dicking her way off the show in 1994. Then she inexplicably got another chance with Charmed years later, and proceeded to dick her way off that show too.

Salomon and Doherty got hitched in 2002, promising to love and cherish each other until death do they part. Well, death or annulment do they part. The newlyweds had their blessed union annulled just nine months later. Not that I can blame…either of them.

So gay people can't marry in some states, but these two can? Alright.

So gay people can’t marry in some states, but these two can? Alright.

Which brings us to Ms. (or Mrs?) Pamela Anderson, who I had no idea had even been married to Salomon previously until news broke of their REmarrying.

Apparently these idiots got hitched in Las Vegas back in 2007; at the time Anderson would only identify her “fiancé” as a “poker player.” Makes sense. Suppose it does have a nicer ring to it than “the co-star of Paris Hilton’s grody sex tape.”

It didn’t take Anderson long to realize she made the biggest mistake of her life; she filed for divorce just 10 weeks later, citing “irreconcilable differences.” Proving that, while Pamela Anderson is most definitely older, she certainly isn’t any flipping wiser.

The soulless celebrity pimps over at People magazine reported over the weekend that Anderson and Salomon recently remarried and are “very happy.” Last October “Anderson revealed on The Ellen DeGeneres Show that they were back togethers as ‘best friends…both benefits.’”

These crazy middle-aged “kids” decided to REmarry their respective fuck buddies! Best idea ever. Meaning it was most definitely the fourth marriage for both and the last for neither. Unless one of them dies soon…which could happen.

Enjoy it while it lasts, kids. Because it won't be long.

Enjoy it while it lasts, kids. Because it won’t be long.

Congrats, idiots who are both closing in on 50! Enjoy the honeymoon…that is probably already over. The rest of us will enjoy the divorce.

16 Things I’m Gonna Do Whether They’re Healthy Or Not

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16 Things I’m Gonna Do Whether They’re Healthy Or Not

Every week there’s a new study being published touting the health benefits of eating chocolate or drinking wine. Conversely, for every scientific study commissioned by Hershey and Boone’s Farm aimed at making people feel better about being a gluttonous drunk, there’s another conducted by Dr. Buzzkill from You’re All Gonna Die University, doing just the opposite.

Here’s the thing about all those studies—I seriously don’t give a shit and neither should you. Living your life is all about picking your battles and making moderately responsible decisions most of the time, if only so you can really enjoy the times when you throw caution to the wind and consume your bodyweight in nachos and beer. It also means there are some non-negotiables that you’ll have to pry away from my cold dead hands.

United States vs. Canada: 2 Countries Defined in 2 Photos

blah blah blah

blah blah blah

The Miss Universe pageant was held on Saturday and Miss Venezuela won again. Their star fucking diseased dictator Hugo Chavez must have called in a few favors with Lucifer over the weekend, given this was their third title since 2008.

Honestly though, who the hell cares about this stupid beauty pageant. The real story wasn’t that Venezuela is obviously paying off Donald Trump in cheap toupees and bronzer to win favor, it was the national costumes worn by Miss USA and Miss Canada.

The pageant opens with the “Parade of National Costumes,” in which all 86 women saunter out in an elaborate costume that supposedly represents her country. Let’s see what the ladies came up with!

Oh Canada, my home and native land...

Oh Canada, my home and native land…

Miss Canada dressed as a…Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer who happens to be carrying around a Canadian flag.

Literally the most literal interpretation (by far) of a country by a contestant this year. Maybe ever.

If this was her second idea, I imagine her first was dressing as a hockey player and carrying a crate of maple syrup.

Oh say can you see, by the dawn's early light...

Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…

And this is what Miss USA dressed as!

That’s right! She dressed as Optimus Prime, a transformer from the big-budget Michael Bay monstrosity franchise Transformers. Because of course she did.

So what does Optimus Prime have to do with the United States?

Said Miss USA: “Nothing screams national costume like the first Miss USA transformer. … Embracing powerful women in a transforming country that’s made up of so much. That’s what Miss USA means to me.”

What the hell is she talking about? That’s crazy, incoherent and makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

This is literally the most American thing that has ever happened. Ever. 

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill.

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill.

Yep. That pretty much sums up our two countries in a nutshell.

Now if you’ll please excuse me…

This is how we celebrate an assassination in America!

This is how we celebrate an assassination in America!

USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA!

Glee’s Cory Monteith Dies, Last Tweeted About #SharkNado

Yikes. This is the WORST.

Yikes. This is the WORST.

Without ever seeing an episode of the Fox teen dramedy Glee, I can say with certain that actor Cory Monteith died without dignity this weekend. Monteith had been a guest star on the show for over four years and died on Sunday of a drug overdose at the Fairmont Pacific Rim Hotel in Vancouver.

Police say the actor had guests in his room Friday evening who he left with at some point, but they all eventually left his room and Monteith returned on his own in the early morning hours of Saturday. They believe Monteith was alone when he died of what is suspected to be a drug overdose, although the official cause of death is still currently unknown. That’s the case, pending an autopsy.

Now, I’d be lying if I said that this kid’s death is upsetting to me on a really personal level. I’ve never seen an episode of Glee and I never plan on watching one either. That being said, when I read about his death, I just couldn’t help but wonder if he was on Twiter and, if so, what his last tweet was in reference to.

It’s kind of ridiculous, but that’s just one of the things we Millennial/Gen Y types have to worry about these days that no other generation has ever had to consider. It’s a double-edged sword—technological advances are generally considered a good thing, but having your last works forever immortalized isn’t something that most people had to deal with even a few years ago.

Whereas the last words of Cory Monteith may be the only thing I ever know about him. Here’s what he said:

GOD WHY?!?!??!?

GOD WHY?!?!??!?

SERIOUSLY?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!

Can you even imagine if your last words in this world were in reference to the Syfy television movie Sharknado? If you can, that means you’re probably under the age of 30.

It’s a sad state of affairs, but a large portion of the population out there would rather have their 15 minutes of fame come from this kind of notoriety than nothing at all. Anyone who would rather be known for this, as opposed to nothing at all, is obviously a sad victim of a society that now says if everyone doesn’t know you exist…then you don’t exist at all.

I didn’t know who Cory Montelith was yesterday. Today I know he was an actor on a show that I never watched and his last words were about #SharkNado.

How sad…

Canada Didn’t Want Nik Wallenda To Die, America Could Give A Shit

Canada cares about you. America does not.

Canada cares about you. America does not.

In June 2012 Nik Wallenda, of the famed Flying Wallendas, completed a tightrope walk across Niagara Falls from the American side to the Canadian side. The negotiations took years because the Canadian government has a straight up ban on death-defying acts at the world-renowned tourist attraction.

Seriously, could that country be any duller?

Eventually he wore them down with good old fashioned American persistence. If someone says no, just harass them until they’re too tired not to say yes. Part of the agreement required Wallenda to be tethered, so the event wasn’t nearly as exciting a it was initially promoted to be.

Those fuddy duddies in Canada and the ABC network—owned by the Disney Corporation—obviously weren’t super enthused about being associated with a televised death.

You know who doesn’t give a shit? America and the Discovery Channel. In the next hour Nik Wallenda is going to step out onto a tightrope, completely untethered, and attempt to cross the Grand Canyon while the world looks on.

The pre-walk coverage has been a spectacle, with the various hosts talking at great length about the peril he’s placing himself in. They also made a special note to let us know there is an ambulance standing by at the bottom of the canyon, despite making it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t survive the fall. Not by a long shot.

So I guess they’re on hand to scrape his mangled body off the rocks, should that be something that is required. I guess they picked the short straws at the Discovery Channel meeting where they assigned all the jobs.

They’ve been gleefully boasting about the attention the event is getting on Twitter, while basically brushing over the fact that everyone is only tuning in to potentially see someone die. It’s kind of disturbing, but I believe on some level, many people are going to be disappointed if he doesn’t.

Is he looking out over his rocky grave?

Is he looking out over his rocky grave?

Anyway! We’re about to find out how this works out for him. Fingers crossed (for whatever outcome you’re hoping for).

Oh and what have we learned here? If you want to die on live television at a National Park—don’t involve Canada or Disney. Just go to Arizona—they don’t give a fuck.

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