I don't know what it is about having a blog named "Gang Bang Face," but for some reason there is quite a bit a traffic coming this e-cess pool's way. This would all be fine and even quite dandy if Gang Bang Face, indeed, was an actual blog. Unfortunately for you (pervs), it's not. It was simply a way for me to showcase my writing skillz to a potential employer, a task that ultimately failed for reasons that may or may not have had to do with me labeling a part of my resume after a gang bang. Yeah, I'm pretty stupid.
Regardless, I don't want you people to just close this window and never think about me again. Nope. Instead I plead with you to open a door (one not having to do with a gang bang, well, most of the time) called The Anti DC, which is my real blog. Yeah, I'm pretty dorky.
The Anti DC is my dumpster baby. If it helps, you can even assume it was conceived in some kind of e-gang bang. Yeah, I'm pretty sick.
But enough explanations, let's click this sh*t together. It feels so good. Like a gang bang. Wait. What?
Whatever.
In the words of Vince (fast forward 55 seconds), you're gonna love my nuts. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
A De-Pantsing I Can Believe In
Usher is many things to many people. To many, he is the greatest all-around performer since Michael Jackson. To me, he is a man who likes to drop trou in public.But to those who attended the We Are One concert yesterday in Washington, D.C., he was just the dude doing a trio with Stevie Wonder and Shakira. Seriously, how did
And might I add while we're all e-gathered here together right now (as One), what in Blockbuster hell was Tom Hanks there for? Lately, the only way for Mr. Hanks to salvage a performance would be if he re-enacted the scene from Forrest Gump in which he awkwardly is invited to make a speech at the anti-'Nam (and please pronounce that to rhyme with "yam") rally and instead decides to wade in the Reflecting Pool to find long-lost, dirty hippy Jenny. But no, in reality he probably just blathered on about his next greatest failure of a film, Angels and Demons, the sequel to his last greatest failure of a film, The Da Vinci Code. I don’t know. I wasn't really listening. I was too busy thinking about Usher taking his pants off.
Allow Me to Dumb Down Science (Not For You, But For Myself)
Holy crap. We might not exist. Well, not true. We exist, but we might not exist as we know it. According to an article in this week’s New Scientist magazine, we might just be tiny specks of matter stuck on the edge of the universe. So, what does this mean? In the words of the great Gob Bluth, "It's an illusion, Michael!" OK, I lied again. Our world is not an illusion, per se, as much as just A GIANT HOLOGRAM!Seriously, this is some freaky sh*t. Freaky science sh*t, which means it’s freaky like Beaker, Spock and Chewbacca getting together and having an alien Vulcan Muppet baby. So, like, Gonzo, and for those of us who fancy ourselves alien Vulcan Muppet baby scholars, Gonzo was pretty damn groundbreaking.
See, according to this so-called "science" I speak of, some crazy machine called the GEO6000 has detected something called "noise" coming from the edges of our universe, which, combined with our current knowledge of black hole rims (which I only wish was as dirty as it sounds), means that…uh…
Damn you, science! You've fooled me once again! I have no idea what it means in the grand scheme of things if this hologram hypothesis is true! (Clearly, I have no business trying to read New Scientist magazine.) I can only hope this new information finally makes it official to Jem that we are all, indeed, a part of her band, The Holograms.
Wait! I just figured out what it would mean if we really are living as holograms. It simply means that we're truly outrageous. Truly, truly, truly outrageous. Take that, science!
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