“Your heart is my piñata.”

I really was planning on posting a lot of the material that I've been storing in my downloads box, but as some of you know, Blake Lively announced today that she and num-nutsPenn Badgley had broken up. So, as you can imagine, that changed my daily timeline. Instead of blogging all afternoon on useless stories no one cares about, I spent it buying flowers, handcuffs, GHB and ski masks. I know she loves me. I can tell because when I pull this picture out of my pocket, the one where she took a shower for me while I was hanging outside her window from that rusted vine grate, she always looks at me. I can see it in her eyes. She's always aiming to please me. The cops are in on our little game too. It's so fun. They keep saying, "Mr Roethlisberger (clever right? That's what they think my name is) You cannot be on this property according to the Los Angeles County Courts." Keeping with the game, I just nod, wink, and say, Ohhh...I get it. Yes siiirrrrr, I'm leaving (wink wink) now...."

Incredible stupidity = Gene pool cleansing

People Are Awesome - Watch more Sports

Despite half of these people not having a chance to live past 30, videos like this, to me, are wildly entertaining. A couple of these I had to rewatch because I was literally staring in disbelief.

No to marijuana, yes to murder. Yep, Florida strikes again.

In 2007 she captured global attention as the Hiccup Girl, a 15-year-old who spent nearly six weeks searching for a remedy for her non-stop bout of hiccups – a journey documented by multiple visits to NBC's Today. However, since then, Jennifer Mee, 19, of St. Petersburg has taken up a new hobby, Robbery and Murder. She, along with two others are charged with first-degree murder in the death of Shannon Griffin, 22, whom they tried to rob on Saturday. Just to ensure that everyone knew what a hopeless dip shit loser she was, Jennifer, on her MySpace page, describes herself as a "female version of a hustla."

Many questions could arise from this troubled teen's story, yet none more perplexing than, "Who has a Myspace page?"

It's gonna be a tough task, but try to pick out the famous people.

When I look at the pictures of the Jersey Snores above, I can hardly contain my laughter. It looks like a terrible typical SNL skit. Snooki has on 6"heels and still couldn't ride one roller coaster in North America. The other two look like younger versions of Magda from, There's Something About Mary. Conversely, the other picture looks like two angels singing hymns from Heaven. The differences between these two pictures are the epitome of what's wrong with pop culture in America. In fact, these barely resemble the same species.

Jennifer Aniston's photography classes are really paying off...

Everyone, except me of course, thought Brad and Angie would last about 10 seconds. Since 2005 they have been having sex and causing Jennifer Aniston to sew Voo-Doo dolls of skinny brunettes defying the odds and you can see from the pictures here, they still kiss for fun. With lips like Jolie's, who wouldn't kiss for fun. She could murder a Care Bear riding My Little Pony and I would still want to have sex with her. Yeah she's weird, so what. Who isn't? We'd be perfect. I'm weird as hell. Angelina, I like kids...especially adopted ones with funny names. Call me.

This is precisely how I know Maxim sucks.

Avril Lavigne hasn't been relevant, well really ever, but at least since 2003 or so. She's like a 27 year old version of a girl you dated when you were in 6th grade. Either Maxim is dedicated to turning me into a pedophile that likes pale, flat chested, 4'1" 6th graders, or they hate sexy women. Maxim magazine sucks my ass. I would rather send my money to continue helping Sally Struthers steal food from those poor African children than give one dime to Maxim Magazine.

wowzers.

I've been looking at a blinking cursor for three hours and I can't think of one reason I'm posting this picture of Victoria's Secret model Candice Swanepoel. I'm almost positive this picture was taken in Heaven by God, which is why it's beyond my comprehension. God, thank you for uploading this JPEG. You're amazing.

Jennifer Aniston will ruin your life.

After 11 years of marriage and bearing the burden of having self loathing misery addict Jennifer Aniston ride you like a fair pony, Courtney Cox and David Arquette separated. I was naive enough to believe this Hollywood couple would actually last, but if I had just considered how closely Jennifer Aniston is to them, I would've known their marriage was doomed like Pamela Anderson's liver. Jennifer Aniston is the luckiest person in Hollywood. The only reason she ever became famous was because a brilliant group of writers and producers caught lightning in a bottle and developed one of the greatest shows in the history of television. Think about it, at the time, dip shit Schwimmer was the biggest star on the show...that is until Aniston married Brad Pitt. At that point her career took off. When she finally drove him into the arms Jolie, Aniston's career and personal life started a downward spiral that could rival Enron. She's such a Ba-Ba Blacksheep, if I passed Aniston on Sunset Blvd, I would expect to be possessed by some satanic murderer that sings that Rolling Stones song, "Time is on our Side" like that Denzel Washington movie that scared the hell out of me.

Guess what she does for a living?

Like Aristotle's third element of truth, Logos, these pictures of Alessandra Ambrosio are all the logical proof I need to know that my loins are actually on fire. I expect, within the hour, to get a comment on my blog from Chris Bostain that says, "Like I've said many times before, I would cash it all in for this girl." Well, Chris, I couldn't agree more. There's hardly anything left to say about a woman this seemingly perfect. All I can convince myself is that somewhere her husband bitches to all his friends about how much she nags, how bad she is in the sack, and how she never lets him watch the game with the boys or play golf. Honestly, she could staple my frank and beans to the bed sheets every night and slap me across the face with a boat paddle and I would still wake up thinking about how romantic she was. Alessandra Ambrosio is a model because somewhere in some Brazilian or Argentine genetic laboratory, smart people with funny accents and brown skin created perfection. There's literally not one job on the face of the Earth that she could do better than this one.

Meth is the new steroids

Someone, on some blog, told me this was Aaron Carter. I have no idea who that is so according to WIKI, Aaron Carter is the brother of Nick Carter. Guess what, I don't know Nick Carter either, but according to WIKI, he was in the Backstreet Boys. Guess what, yeah I know who they are, but I wish I didn't. Anyway, the only reason I read this story and saved this picture was because I was certain this story had to be about Meth addiction or Intervention's new season on A&E. If one of you know one thing this dude has done to be considered famous, I'll send you a gift certificate to Waffle House.

Sobriety: Life On Life's Terms

A long 20 minutes in this mood. That’s how long the upload was supposed to take according to the Facebook estimate. I’m downtown. I figured I’d get a burger and a diet coke and upload some pictures from my leave to Florida for family to see. The city worker in the street is gonna have a heart attack. He can’t understand why nobody knows where to go. The traffic light is out and the truck in the middle of the intersection blocks the view of his hand signals on at least one side at a time. He starts to look like a dog chasing his tail. Above the truck, in the bucket, the other worker works on fixing the lights. I gotta piss again and I hate the sound of Harleys.

The upload’s been over a half hour now and watching this hard hat’s frustration is killing me. Meanwhile, I’m not in the sun. I’m on the south side and the building on the deck alfresco. It’s blocking the cool breeze that beckoned me from my room over an hour ago. The fries and burger arrive. The only thing fresh about either is that they are freshly thawed. This is a good location to go for lunch downtown according to the local paper, but this is Fayetteville North Carolina, and for different reasons, maybe people here don’t know any better.

Almost 15 bucks. My mood worsens. I fail to take pleasure in the fact that I didn't just order a pitcher of beer. I had only one diet coke and it was .50 extra for the cheese on my already 10 dollar cheeseburger. Thanks to the glowing endorsement in the Record perhaps they get away with this. In Florida the restaurant business in tourist retiree and college areas is so intense Huske Hardware would be out of business in a month. But my fault I guess. I didn’t even look at the menu because of the delicious pictures of cold beer. The waitress asks me “how is everything,” and I say fine. That’s when I started writing this. I had to do something. I still gotta go piss, and I will. She came out with my refill minus the straw. One of the other Huske Hardware waitresses keeps looking out the window at me like I’m either someone important, or someone unwanted. I can’t tell, but I can say this: I’m Specialist Holden Caufield, all grown up, and always a beer or two from making it better. But one's too many and one-hundred's never enough.

I finished the upload. I took a leak. But there’s still something lodged in my teeth that my tongue can’t shake. I walked over to the library, and so I continue to write. Something put me in a horrible mood this morning and I know exactly what it was. For one thing I’m not in Gainesville anymore. While home on leave, mostly sober, and spending time with family, it was something I wanted and needed. Now I’m back at the joke also known as “the center of the military universe.” Seriously, on any given day you can wander around Fort Bragg and hear a high ranking army officer make this reference and say it with a straight face. It may even be true, but it’s just a horrible concept to me, and to think, that’s where I live. While I was on leave there were welfare inspections and walk-thrus in the barracks. A crack down you could say. From within, finally, there’s a growing unease with the increasing number of suicides in the military. In reality it’s the unease of having a much higher ranking soldier pushing his “…just fix it Sergeant!” down through the ranks to the individual. And in the usual “work harder not smarter” motif of the US Army, things like barracks inspections take place and increased hovering over troubled soldiers become clearly visible to the E-4s and below.

Effective? The poncho I hung up and used as a wall, that was my only physical separation from my roommate, a metaphor for my thin comfort of living in the barracks has been removed in my absence during the welfare crackdown. Meanwhile, the work order I submitted to fix the toilet two weeks ago, before I left, to the contracted civilians in charge of “barracks maintenance” has been ignored. I remember when I turned it in the woman behind the desk yelling at someone for not locking the door. It was my lunch break, also theirs, convenience for them, not for soldiers. As I left the contractor told me he would “submit a work order.” Funny thing is I was silly enough to think that that was what I was doing.

The other thing that’s under my skin, making it hard to not go have a drink in this hour: This morning I watched the movie my roommate suggested last night. He was asleep when I got up this morning so I crept around in stealth ninja mode making coffee and toast and slid it in the player but when he was still asleep at 10 this morning, when I finished “Get Him To The Greek” I gave up and gave chase to the my needy unknown on this truly pleasant fall day. The leaves are just starting to turn here in the piedmont but I couldn’t turn my head from the film until it ended, just as I wouldn’t be able turn from the sight of an aggravated city worker lose his cool in a mildly busy city intersection hours later.

“…The Greek,” a comedy that made me feel horrible, also made me feel like I’m either from another planet or should be. I'm a guy who enjoyed The Hangover which was well made. The Greek is no Hangover. The thin thread of a lesson to be learned coiled around an even thinner thread of humor wound me tighter and tighter as I watched, and as the script flopped back and forth on the theme of pros and cons of drug use, drunkenness, infidelity, talent, art, and integrity in the music industry. It was like watching some kind of godless blasphemy that both a theist or atheist could understand simultaneously. As an example, somehow , the film concludes that a song, “The Clap” (entendre singular – the STD), which is one of the “last real rock star” character’s older hits - is real rock, and a better choice to play live rather the recent flop of a single “African Child,” which was deemed racist within the film. The character played by Russell Brand makes a mockery of anything genuine in music (one of my genuine interests) and of drug and alcohol addiction and recovery. On film he drinks and takes drugs constantly, has random sex with strangers, and offers his advice and desperation to others while trying to save his marriage and keeping his clear, awake, and unslurred white eyed sobriety. Any real addict will call bullshit, and nothing can be funny along with this

This aspect may be the thing that really really got me. I’m in recovery and the whole drinking and drugging part of this film and its extremely shallow portrayal is the worst part, put in a comedic format, while pretending to maintain both sides of the coin, the cool high and the hot crash, at the same time. Since July I’ve been in the ASAP program (Army Substance Abuse Program). As are others very nearby, here in the barracks. For the month of August I was at Twelve Oaks, an institution in Pensacola where I began my recovery, paid for by the army. And honestly, as aggravating as it can be sometimes, being a soldier in the barracks (especially at my age), my chain of command has gone beyond my expectations in terms of my desire to stop drinking. I can only hope the same reception will be afforded to any other soldier who is willing to come forward to admit there is a problem. In fact, Fayetteville isn't so bad either, really. One should always look at the price they're gonna pay before they do, and be willing to speak up if something isn't right.

So now "the poncho wall" is gone, I’m broke because I bought a burger, I’m indoors making blog confessions when I should be outside enjoying the blue sky, and I’m still in the army instead of with family in Florida. It seems I'm in a better mood though, better than I was. I mean it. I got that movie out of my head by getting it off my chest. And I can for a second, snap out of it at least, and be thankful to a higher power that I’m stateside and out of a war zone, well fed, employed, able to go on leave and watch a movie, see and be loved by family, and most of all, be sober, one day at a time. If that last part fails, down goes the rest, and I know it. There but for the grace of God go I.

I dare you to not laugh.

News Anchor Cracks Up At Dikshit - Watch more Funny Videos

I would pay three grand to get this guy stoned out of his mind and just start laughing. It makes me happier than watching puppies and unicorns kiss.

God, she's so pretty.

Christina Hendricks was photographed spending her time between takes violently burning heaters in hopes of suppressing her insatiable appetite. Obviously, it's working...working the same way deep fried oreo and pork chop milk shake diets work.

In the latest edition of Harper's Bazaar, Hendricks revealed to the curious readers just how irresistible she is to both men and women and how confusingly arrogant she is about her obesity body and good looks:

“Women hit on me,” she chuckles. “My husband thinks it’s so odd that so many women hit on me.” Gay men too. “They say to me, ‘Well, I’m not straight, but if I was…’ I think it’s so flattering.”

"When the attention started to become about my figure, I was surprised, because it wasn’t something I was focused on. And then it became very positive, and people were saying very nice things. A fan approached her and said, “Excuse me, I just want to tell you that I watch your show, and you make me feel better about myself. I am a curvy woman and you’ve made me feel sexy and beautiful.’ I got teary eyed.”

I'm not the Oracle at Delphi, or one of those poverty stricken oxy addict hippies camouflaging themselves as fortune tellers, but let me go out on a limb and say Christina Hendricks was shocked people were talking positive about her figure because there's nothing positive to say, that is, unless you like marshmallows that smell like cigarettes. If I knew everything about everything, I would never know why this chick is on television. Mad Men is one of those shows like Arrested Development. Critics and everyone that think themselves smarter than they really are like these shows. Yeah, Mad Men might win an Emmy or two, but who cares. I love television. I love movies. I've never seen Mad Men once and I never saw that piece of shit The English Patient, and it won like a thousand Oscars one year. Now, I wouldn't watch Mad Men just because this dumb ass is on the show. She better thank to the good Lord men are dumb and still infatuated with tits. This chick actually makes me physically ill to look at her. Couple that with arrogance and tons of money and kick me in the nuts. I'd rather bang Pam Anderson and Courtney Love back to back without protection than spend one minute in a room with this chick naked.

Tim, only you could love this story as much as I do...

Reuters) - The United States apologized on Friday for an experiment conducted in the 1940s in which U.S. government researchers deliberately infected Guatemalan prison inmates, women and mental patients with syphilis.

In the experiment, aimed at testing the then-new drug penicillin, inmates were infected by prostitutes and later treated with the antibiotic.

"The sexually transmitted disease inoculation study conducted from 1946-1948 in Guatemala was clearly unethical," Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius said in a statement.

Unethical? I'd have to say that's the understatement of a lifetime. Aside from inmates getting to bang a hooker, when a government deliberately infects inmates with syphilis, that usually will result in a conviction for crimes against humanity. What dipshit decides one day that this is will be a good idea? I've always heard that if you're unsure of whether or not you should do or say something, you should say it aloud to yourself. Then, you'll have a better idea of how it might sound or seem. Well, needless to say, the US didn't say this one out loud. They didn't even whisper. Holy crap, this seems not only amazingly stupid, but inhumane.

"Hey Bill, guys, gather round, I've got a great idea to help Bill with his syphilis. All we're need are some whores and some prisoners."

Survey Says...

This is one show that has always been hijacked by the biggest tool hosts of any game show in history, except for maybe, Alex Trebek, who according to the way he corrects people, no only speaks every language with perfect accents, he also knows the answer to every question that's ever been asked on Jeopardy. You know what Alex, I know you're reading the answers on those damn cards. Don't be so proud of yourself. Serious though, Family Feud has always been a wretched show, but I have to admit, this show hosted by Steve Harvey wouldn't be that bad. This is one funny damn video.

Cobra McJingleballs...are you effing kidding me?

Justin Murdock, billionaire Dole Food heir and Hobbit Avril Lavigne's ex-boyfriend—faces a sexual harassment suit for calling an employee a "whore," telling her to suck his * & % $, and requiring her to start a Facebook account for him as "Cobra McJingleballs."

The 38-year-old billionaire has a reputation of being an A-Hole, and being a socialite with young people in Hollywood. Carissa, the former director of corporate development has accused Justin of the following:

* Forced her to open a Facebook account for him under the name "Cobra McJingleballs" and which was filled with graphic images including a minstrel-show actor in blackface and an old black-and-white photo of men dressed in Ku Klux Klan robes.
* Told her, "You look like a whore" and said, "What you need is a good pounding." Murdock also allegedly showed her a pornographic film and said, "You know you love it," told of his sexual exploits in graphic detail and simulated sex acts at meetings.
* Demanded she buy flights and hotel rooms for young "interns" he planned to feature in ads for NovaRx.
* Defined her job as being "under my desk [bleep]ing my [bleep.]"
* Threatened her life, saying, "If NovaRx fails, I'll put you at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean in concrete boots."

I gotta tell you...if these allegations were directed at anyone else, I would say he/she will have the book thrown at them; however, when you're a billionaire and you open a facebook account that reads Cobra McJingleballs, you might be the biggest bad ass on earth. I'm not trying to be insensitive, but sexual harassment does not exist for a guy like this. Death threats...whatever. This story is far and away the greatest thing I've read in 2010. It's essentially not even close.