Types of Pictures People Really Need to Stop Taking With Instagram

Within the past couple of weeks, the hipster photography app, Instagram, went from a relatively unknown app that only snoody iPhone users to a Facebook owned by snoody iPhone users, and the RC cola drinkers of the phone world: Android users.
Since I’ve been a part of the first group for several months now, I’ve seen a lot of pictures on there. Some are amazing. Those are from the professional photographers. Some of the others are from everyday people who are taking impressive photos from their everyday live. I like these pictures too, and neither of these groups are the topic of this post.
There is a third group of people on Instagram that make me wish that there was some sort of screening process to prevent tools from using the app. If you see any of these kinds of pictures, the “photographers” absolutely deserve your hate.
1. Uploaded phone screenshots to Instagram

The farther over to the right you go, the more the guys in this picture look like a bitch.

I’m putting this one first because I am guilty of this, but don’t think that that makes it the least despicable. No. If anything, that should prove that this is probably one of the worst types of pictures on Instagram because I’m a huge hypocrite and not to be trusted. Now that I got calling myself a hypocrite (and therefore making myself feel better about being a hypocrite) out of the way, let me explain why.

Mine is at least humorous in a perverted kind of way.

With Instagram and any other photo sharing app/ site in which you can edit your photos, the point is to take a beautiful picture of what you’re seeing or what is going on in your life that day and to make that picture’s beauty stand out. You are absolutely not doing that when you upload a screenshot from your phone. All you are doing (besides pissing me off) is making something look artistic when there is no artistic thought behind it. Sure, Instagram connects to facebook and Twitter, but since Instagram is on your phone, so does your fucking phone. There is no reason to put it through a filter on Instagram first. And there is absolutely no reason you should blur out everything except one app on the screen. I’m talking about you @RealYellaBoy, whoever the fuck you are.

2. Stolen funny pics from other websites which were then uploaded to Instagram
In my mind, this is worse than the previous entry, and not just because I have never done this. What makes this one worse is that at least when someone takes a screenshot of their phone, they’re the ones who are taking the picture. No matter how identical these pictures may look to me, there is a connection between the photo and the photographer. This is not so if you just steal the image offline and upload it yourself. These types of pictures are usually a joke of some kind, but whatever humor they once had is lost on me because I’ve been thrown into a blind and senseless rage over some douchebag stealing other people’s shit. Adding an “artistic flair” to the photograph doesn’t make it anymore the uploader’s as me gluing my ball hair to the Mona Lisa’s chin make that painting mine. Trust me, I know. I’ve been kicked out of The Louvre enough times (10 times to be exact) for to take that hint. Yella Boy is particularly bad at this, but so is my friend and workout partner Jay. Here is a motivational poster he uploaded, which I then took a screenshot of, e-mailed it to myself and uploaded here:

This isn’t hypocritical because I’m trying to prove a point that Jay is a tool

I know what you’re thinking: “Minigan, you’re so awesome, and talented, and smart, and sexy. And also, Did you ask Jay’s permission to use that picture?” For that first part, thank you. I am, aren’t I? And as for the question: no I didn’t because I wanted Jay to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel that great, does it Jay? All of a sudden people stealing your shit doesn’t seem so great. Well, welcome to the Internet, Jay.

“Man, this poorly photoshopped torso in front of me sure is attractive…” Totally Jay’s thoughts at the moment this picture was taken.)

3. Pictures taken of the food the “photographer” is eating

Really, a candy bar? You slimy taint.

I shit thee not, if someone does this regularly, I will stop following them. On Instagram, on Twitter, on facebook, back to their house. I will no longer take an interest in that person’s life. It’s one thing to take a picture of a particularly difficult or uncommon meal that you made, but if it’s a chipotle burrito, go fuck yourself. You aren’t unique. And you especially shouldn’t share your pointlessness with the rest of the people on instagram.
Even if the food you’ve taken was food on vacation, you need to know that no one cares. In fact, you should know that because whenever I see one of those pictures, I scream, “no one fucking cares!” into my phone loud enough that you should be able to hear me. That is how I always assumed phones worked, after all.

4. Taking too many photos over the course of the day
This one isn’t necessarily a type of picture, but it still comments on the douche factor of the person who took those pictures. If you’re a professional photographer, then you have the right to post your work as much as you want. For the rest of us, give it a rest. My personal daily upload limit for Instagram is usually two. I might post three if I upload two in the morning and one in the evening. If you spread them out, then I should be OK not ripping your throat out. But if you upload so many that my feed has several of your pictures in a row, then I will stop looking at any picture you post while I daydream about you getting brain cancer from your phone.
Luckily, these people are probably the most detestable people on Instagram, because if they do this then they’re likely to take the other Instagram photos I’ve mentioned. And if they’re a woman, then you know they’ve most likely taken…

5. Pictures of painted nails while holding the bottle of polish in the same hand

Taking these pictures will never make daddy love you. Go back to doing porn.

I don’t know what exactly throws me into a violent rage over this kind of picture. It might be that, as a man (a big, strong man), I do not find painted nails interesting. At all. Ever. And I never will. Or maybe it’s because the stupid picture is so goddamn over done that every picture taken like this looks exactly the same to me. Or maybe it’s even the plain old stupidity of painting your nails a pretty color, taking a picture of it, and then distorting the color with photo filters so that the viewer has no clue what the original color was supposed to be. But whatever the reason is, I hate these pictures and I hate the women who take them. They make the girls on 16 and pregnant look like welcome members of society in comparison. That is, of course, unless that pregnant 16 year old is also one of the women who posted that kind of picture. If she did, then she’s worse that Hitler. I hate these pictures so much that no matter how hot a woman may be, no matter how cool, or how funny, or how much fun, or how great her personality is, if she takes a picture like this, I will not go out with her. And if I’m already going out with her, I will dump her ass faster than you can say “Go drink nail polish remover.”

And make sure you take a pseudo artistic photo while you do it, you tool.

OK, I’m done ranting.
Peace

Lenten Facebook Challenge: Day 9

 

Hello Everybody! I’ve missed you! Here, pull up a chair, and I will tell you all about my first week without Facebook. For those of you who aren’t going through this with me (which should be all of you), go fuck yourself. Fuck you. You think you know me? Bitch, I will straight jump through the fucking internet and strangle you with Google’s search algorithm. Don’t fucking test me; I am Minigan Blackwood: Internet Lord. YOU DARE QUESTION MY AUTHORITY?! TWUNT, YOU ARE FUCKING NOTHING TO FUCKING ME. I WILL FUCKING FUCKING KICK BALLS TITTY SLAP SHIT COUGAR DOUCHE COCK HELL ADHKJDELSD KDMEKFDKDFK AKJD FEIAS TLKDMEM ASLKJ AIFJADKJF KDIEAGHKE COX SEIG AOIEADNMD DOID DFA………………………….

I'm sorry, the writer whose words you were reading, Minigan, just had a mental episode. Please make a note of it.

 

Sorry about that. My “Darkside” took over for a moment. Anyway, what I was going to say was that this is actually much more difficult than what I previously expected. I didn’t  actually think of the social ramifications that would come about from me not having a facebook. I have no clue as to what’s going on in any of my friends lives right now. If I want to know, then I have to ask them, and I don’t want that, because they will take it as an invitation to vomit out every little bad thing that has happened since the last time I talked to them. For instance, I found out today that one of my coworkers broke up with her boyfriend. This actually wouldn’t be news to me at all, if it wasn’t for the fact that everyone else knew about it but me. I know that I am not important enough to be kept in the loop for every detail of everyone’s lives, but c’mon people, at least clue me in on the important stuff.

But despite that, I think the worst part of not being on facebook is that it did not lower my time that I waste online. That was my main expectation: that since I was not wasting my time on facebook, I could do other activities like watch movies, read books, go outside, and be a member of a real society again, but this didn’t happen. The only thing that happened is that I took all the time that I was wasting on facebook, and dispersed it on many less worthy websites. The things I have been wasting my time with have also become increasingly weirder as well. I seriously spent two day watching old episodes of “Are You Afraid of the Dark” on Youtube (fun fact: when you watch the show now, you can tell that it is very Canadian).  And to be honest, for a kid show, they are actually pretty intense, in particular the episode below, “The tale of Dead Man’s Float.”

I remember this episode better than I remember many of the others specifically for the ghost in it. Before I watched it again I did not have a clear image in my mind of what it looked like, so when I got to the part when it rises out of the water for the first time, I said, partially in shock, “That ghost is horrifying.”

Sweet Merciful Fuck! This is from a kid's show!?!?

The episode itself isn’t all that dramatic, but the story is only about 20 minutes long, so that can be forgiven, especially after seeing that ghost. I may not have screamed when I saw it, but the fact that I actually said out load that something is terrifying is usually a pretty good sign that it is scary as shit. Seriously, look at that picture. Picture yourself standing at the edge of a pool when that thing comes out. If you do not see yourself emptying your bowels into your pants, then you are either stupidly cocky, or you have balls the size of aircraft carriers.

Anyway, another thing that has been stealing time away from me was this game. It is called Douchebag Workout, and in it, you basically lift weights and try to get your character to go from weakling to muscular douchebag. It kind of pissed me off because it makes it seem like the key ingredient to douchebag behavior is a muscular physique. And to stick up for my gym rat brethren (not myself- I have already proven that I am a douchebag), I would like to point out that most of the are good guys that do not have an over inflated sense of self-worth. But with all that aside, the fun thing about this game is that you can take illegal substances in the game like steroids and some radioactive Russian hormone booster. These are things that I would never try on myself, but If I am using it on a virtual person, why the hell not?  It is also pretty awesome to see results after only three reps, but hey, I’m not a personal trainer, maybe that is how it actually works and I’ve been wrong this entire time. Or, you know, it could be the steroids. Anywhoo, I beat the game in one day, and once I was done, I realized that I just wasted all that time doing something to a virtual person, only for me to turn around and go to the gym later that day. I might be obsessed with working out.

Despite both of those time wasters, Stumbleupon has been by far the most time consuming. I am not going to explain what Stumbleupon is, because you have already read its name, and your curiosity will draw you there either way. But, if you are so foolish to go looking for it, there is no saving you. You will be lost forever in the dense ocean that is the internet. You will be forever trapped in a limbo of websites. Some good, some bad, but each one beconing you to click that button again and see what’s next. It is internet crack. But it’s free, so you don’t need to suck anyone’s dick for it, so it does have that going for it.

I guess what this all comes down to is this: yes, facebook is a major time waster. Yes,  most of the shit that is posted on it is retarded, and is better left in the person’s head. Yes, people take it too seriously. But at least it is actually a form of social interaction. That’s right, I said it. It is a form of social interaction. You show your friends pictures, videos, random websites, tell them jokes, talk to them, let them know general information about you, of course that is social interaction. It is just through a new medium. And that is what is lacking from everything else that I have been doing online: that interaction. Despite the fact that I am looking at the same thing as a million other people, I am still completely isolated from them because of this whole Jesus thing. It’s kind of depressing when you stop to think about it. To counteract that, here is a picture of a puppy:

Well, that is all that I have to say about that.

Peaces and cream

 

It’s Official: I am a Douchebag

Well, I was going to write a post about Charlie Sheen, But my computer died on me, and I lost all that I had written. This really sucks too, because Sheen has gone completely crack-smoking crazy the past couple of days. I WILL be writing on this topic in the near future. For this post however, I am going to explain to you how I made the discovery that is the title of this post: that I am a complete douchebag. My main arguement is this picture:

Superman is much more of a preppy asshole than what I would have guessed.

Let’s break this photo down.

1. I guess I should start with the most vague symbol of my douchebaggery- my build. It isn’t that I am muscular which makes me a douchebag. No, many people who are muscular aren’t douchebags. It is being muscular along with being self absorbed which makes one a douchebag. Look at me. I couldn’t help but take a pic of my flexed bicep as I walked into the bathroom. There is a phrase I like to use that describes that kind of narcisism, and that is “self suck.” You can just tell that I am insecure and I work out just to make myself feel better.

2. My shirt- not only am I so insecure about myself that I need to flex whenever there is a mirror in front of me, but I also have to wear tight-fitting clothes to accentuate (I purposely used the gayest word I could think of to take a stab at myself) my build. But not only is it tight, it is also a baby blue Superman shirt, which makes it all 10 times worse. Since the shirt references a comic book character, I can either be a geek poser, or someone who actually believes that I am superman. Either way, I’m a douche. Next: the color. The only guys who wear baby blue are either gay or douchebags, and if this was another person, I would say that the person was both. So not only am I a douchebag, I am also a huge hypocrite, All because I am wearing this shirt. If only that shirt had a collar that I could pop, I could create a black hole of pure douchebag energy.

3. My fucking face- Look at it. I mean, really look at it.  The expression I am making is a cross between duckface and an overconfidant smirk.  Too bad my pasty white ass isn’t tanner, because the wrinkles on my face would have been much more noticable and funny for you guys. But the fact that I managed to not make a Jersey Shore Guido kissy face is the only thing I have done my entire life that I should actually be commended for.

4. The flowers- Where the fuck did I take this picture? A meadow?

5. My hat-Now, this is going to be difficult for me; I love that hat, but with everything that I am doing in this picture, it only adds to my overall douchebaggery. Also, look at the pins on it. Why in the hell do I need pieces of flair? Isn’t my hair and shirt flamboyant enough? Jesus Christ, am I like this all the time?

6. The picture itself- Of all the elements, the face, the hat, the shirt,  the bicep flex, the single most important symbol of  my douchiness is the fact that this picture exists. Don’t believe me? Fuck you. Also, look on Facebook. Facebook is littered with pics just like mine (I would have suggested that you Google Image search “doucebag” to prove my point, but all that comes up was pics of guidos).  What I’m feebly trying  argue is that when you see a picture like mine, you instinctively think that that person, the one standing in the bathroom mirror, taking a tilted picture of themselves with their camera phone, is a complete and utter douchebag. And despite my hating on them before, I have joined their douchey, douchey ranks.

7. The fact that I have pointed this all out to you- You may be thinking that I may be not as big of a douchebag since I see the signs in myself. Afterall, admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovering from that problem, right? Well actually, wrong. With me, The fact that I am aware of my own douchery is the biggest factor of why I am a douchebag. It’s the fact that I know this about my self, but choose to do nothing about it which makes me a douche. I am content with it. I enjoy some of the douchey things I do, even this picture, which I took specifically to show all of you how much of a douche I am. I may write my blogs to entertain you all, but at the end of the day, I am still using it to get attention from you, just as every other douchebag uses their looks/ clothing/ personality/ car/ pictures of themselves/ bizarre STDs to get attention of the people around them.

So now I give you the the Douchebag Hall of Fame:

Douche of the flesh-colored beard

Douchebag of the Popped Collar

King Guido

Musical Douchebag

 

 

Douche That Can't Shut The Hell Up, Douche of the Retarded Sunglasses

Dead Douche

Historical Douche

Hipster Douche

Self-Aware Douche

Well, at least I have company. Too bad it’s a sausage fest though, but what can you do?

 

 

OK, that’s it for now. I will probably post something tomorrow, so stay tuned. For my facebook friends reading this, I gave up facebook for Lent, so this will be your only connection to me for the next 38 days. But more on that tomorrow.

 

Peas and lub, wurd.

The News Has Never Been So Sexy, or Disturbing.

Have you noticed how depressing the news is anymore? It doesn’t matter what news station you watch, because after five minutes of any station, you will have a sneaking suspicion that someone is trying to kill you. Also, have you noticed how incredibly hot the Anchor ladies are becoming? Seriously, some of these women need to pose for playboy, or at least Maxim. Shit, I would settle for a Tijuana bible of some of them.

Breaking News: I am pitching a tent!

But it makes sense, you need incredibly attractive women reading the news or ranting incoherently like all pundits, because, lets be honest- the world is not headed to Hell, it is sprinting there, knocking over little old ladies that get in its way. We need hot anchor ladies just because boobs make men smile, and we need something to make us feel better after watching anything on Fox News or MSNBC. This does cause some problems however. For instance, it starts arguments between my dick and my brain about what we are going to watch. My brain doesn’t like to watch the news, because the news makes my brain cry. My dick loves watching the news because the anchor ladies makes my dick cry in a good way. This would lead to many a evening where I would have a headache and be left feeling very frustrated (if you know what I mean.)

This went on for several days before my dick and brain decided that their silly arguing was not getting us anywhere. The three of us decided to search for other means of entertainment. We started with (much to the chagrin of my brain) sticking my dick in random objects. This lead to some comedic and oftentimes tragic consequences, and I am sure one of said consequences ended up on youtube somewhere.

Anyway, from there I discovered a little invention called the internet. It was amazing! All of the most beautiful women in the San Fernando Valley were all in this one place, getting fucked 24/7. I was going to attempt to break into the internet and see if I could get in on the action, but then I discovered the true face of the internet. S&M,  Simpson anime porn, and most evil video of all: 2 girls 1 cup. I had to take three showers after watching that video, and I still felt unclean. And then there was this thing (I swear, Cracked.com showed me this.)

when photoshop goes horribly, horribly wrong...

After that, I decided to quit arm wrestling the Cyclops, and went out to look for some sweet panooch myself. As it turns out, I am incredibly awkward, do not know how to flirt, and second guess myself when I think a girl likes me. Oh, how I wish those were jokes.

The point I am trying to make is that I used up all of my other resources for arousal; I only had three options left: becoming a peeping tom, gay porn (there’s got to be some chicks in it, right?), or the news. Deciding that the former two were more illegal and contained waaay too much sodomy than I care for, I decided to go back to the news. My brain developed a plan to deal with all that noise that those pretty on air personalities produce. That plan was called “Operation: Mute That Bitch.” I would turn onto the news station with the sexiest anchor ladies, and press the mute button. I would then imagine what these women were saying to me. I will give you a brief example of our conversations.

Jillian Hottits- Thank you for watching Minigan Blackwood, I missed you. I missed you so hard.

don't speak, just look pretty for the camera.

Me- I missed you too baby. What do you want to do tonight? What the Hell is he doing here?

Douchebag Scallywag- Sorry Minigan, but I will be jumping in between you two to sporadically kill your erection.

what a douche

Jillian- Your huge, throbbing, man erection

Douchebag- Yes, I will be deflating that. By the end of this program you should feel like your dick is bipolar.

Me- Get off the Screen, Douchebag!

Jillian- Sorry Minigan, but you know the rules. Anyway, did you bring the whippedcream?

Me- I sure did!

Jillian- Good, now squirt it on my big fake boobs.

Me- But you are just a TV screen, I can’t put on your che-

Jillian- JUST DO IT!!!

Me- OK, OK, just calm down. [sprays the whipped cream on the TV, over Jillian’s chest]

Jillian- Oooohhh baby, yea just like that. Now lick it off.

Me- oh, yeah! [starts licking] mmm… you taste so good. Do you like the way I lick you, baby?

Me- Baby?  [looks up] Oh, what the fuck!

Douchebag- This just in: Minigan Blackwood is licking whipped cream off of my suit, proving once again that he is my bitch.

Me- Fuck you

Douchebag- No sir, fuck you.

Me-Put Jillian back on, you slimy, cock gobbling excuse for human placenta!

Jillian- What did you call me?

Me- I didn’t call you anything, baby. Now, where were we?

Jillian-  I was just about to tell you what I want you to do to me.

Me- What do you want me to do to you?

Jillian- I want you to-

Douchebag- suck my old hairy balls

Me- NEVER!!!!

Douchebag- and then I want-

Jillian- you to gently kiss me all over my body. Start at the neck, and slowly work your way down to my navel. Then, before you head down south, I want you to lick my belly button while you –

Douchebag- fondle my big, floppy man boobs. Then you should-

Random black buy that stands in front of a map of the US- DIE MOTHERFUCKER!!!

the most terrifying weatherman ever

Me- Oh, shit no! the racist stereotype is back! Please don’t shoot me, For the love of Yaweh!!!

Stereotype- IT’S GONNA RAIN, BITCH!!

Me- Please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t kill me!

Stereotype- Fine get down on your knees.

Me- Ok, Ok. [begins to sob like a little girl]

Jillian- seeing you cry like that makes me so hot. Mmmm yea, sooo hot!

Me- Thank God you’re back! That racist and inaccurate stereotype was going to kill me.

Jillian-  It’s ok, baby. I’ll make-

Douchebag- You toss my salad, then I’ll-

Stereotype- MAKE IT RAIN, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!

Me- fuck it, I’m done with this shit. [turns off the TV, wipes away the remaining whippedcream. goes into the bathroom, turns on the shower, climbs in, and curls into a ball and weeps uncontrollably]

I may go to Hell for this post.  Hope you enjoyed it!

Reese’s Peaces are nothing but feces

pictured: a pile of shit

Jimmy, you’re welcome.

The Monsters We’ve Made, and How to Kill Them

A lot of interesting things happened this week. My older sister came out. No, not of the closet, out to my house. However that would have made my week much more interesting… Anyway, after my older sister came out of the closet, both of my sisters, my mom, and I played guitar hero. My mom confuses me sometimes. I’m not sure whether she is cool or not. For instance, last Friday she rented “Pineapple Express” and “I Love You Man” not for me to watch, but for her to watch. The entire weekend I kept thinking My mom is pretty damn cool. But then on Monday, we were playing “Santeria” GH World Tour, and she said, “Is this The Black Eyed Peas?” I was dumbfounded a little, but luckily my older sister was able to laugh and able to tell her that it was the band was Sublime. I did manage to get out “How could you mix Sublime and The Black eyed Peas up?” Now I am debating whether or not my mom is cool. I guess I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she’s cool just because I don’t give a damn about Sublime or The Black Eyed Peas.

I may look unhappy, but i was actually having a blast.

I may look unhappy, but i was actually having a blast.

I also started to buy items for my Halloween costume. I’m not going to tell you what I am going to be, but lets just say, it is more work than I expected. I have 4 of the 6 major components in my possession now, but I still have to buy at least 10 more small things for it to be complete.

Today I spent 3 hours zip lining from tree to tree in the Hocking Hills. That was fun, and I was the fastest zip liner there. That’s right, take that women and 40 year old men! Who kicks ass? I KICK ASS!!! I did miss the OSU game, but oh well, I heard that we won, so that’s good enough for me.

I also almost died in a battle royale that occurred on the mean streets of Columbus, but you probably don’t want to hear about that.

Anyway on to this week’s ramble…

Our world is in a crisis of mythic proportions. And sadly, my superhero team is still in the planning stages. In lue of that fact, I will tell you, my faithful readers, how to fight this problem head on. Luckily for you, you will not need any type of artillery to defeat this current threat, only self-control and determination.

With the recent “Black Jesus” outburst at the MTV VMAs, there has been a lot of talk about the said celebrity on TV and the internets. You all know who I am talking about. But I’m not just talking about that sunglasses mannequin.  It seems like every week another celebrity is getting attention for doing dumb shit, and reaping the benefits of free publicity.

Here are some rules of how to make a celebrity not famous any more.

  1. Do not watch their TV show, read their book or blog, or listen to their music. Not even the older stuff. Not buying their stuff is not enough, you have to refuse to be influenced by their writing and music all together. Even if you borrow the CD or book off of a friend, the celebrity still wins.
  2. If there is some other type of item that is endorsed by the celebrity, do not use that item. For instance, if you think George Foreman is a douchebag that deserves a cancer/AIDS hybrid disease. Do not let a George Foreman Grill into your home, and make up a reason like you believe that a George Foreman grill was invented by the Devil to get Americans to eat healthier. Never give the real reason.
  3. DO NOT tell anyone to not watch the celebrity’s show, read their book, go to their blog, or buy their CD. When you make something forbidden, the forbidden object becomes more appealing. Why do you think Eve was tempted by an apple? Apples aren’t that tempting unless you’re me and the apple is a granny-smith. Mmmm, granny-smith apples.
  4. Do not make up fake rumors about them. They probably won’t be believed, and if they are, then they get media attention and so does the celebrity. Also, it will be eventually realized to be a lie.
  5. Keep that person out of your everyday conversations. If someone brings up that celebrity’s latest shenanigans, give that person a dirty look and change the topic.
  6. Stop mentioning them in you twitter and facebook status updates. Along that line, avoid anything on facebook, twitter, and myspace (who am I kidding? No one uses myspace anymore). No bumperstickers, no commenting or liking pictures or statuses that mention that celebrity, and no quizzes with the celebrity’s name in the title.
  7. Be strong. No matter how much you hate a certain celebrity, do not talk about them. That will only lead to a discussion about them and possible twitter and facebook status updates. This is bad.
  8. Remember: for a celebrity even bad publicity is good publicity. They want to be talked about; that is how they get jobs.

And if you were wondering if I am going to follow these rules with a particular celebrity; yes I am. I have actually formed a list of celebrities whose fame I will attempt to destroy via lack of publicity. Here they are:

  1. Kanye West ( I still cannot believe he did that to Tyler Swift’s vagina)kanye
  2. Glenn Beck
  3. Larry the Cable Guy
  4. Perez Hilton (whoever that is)questionmark
  5. Bono
  6. Sean Penn
  7. Jimmy Fallon ( I should have done before he got his own TV show)
  8. Tila Tequila
  9. Flava Flav
  10. Terrell Owens
  11. The Octomom aka Nadya Suleman aka the walking uterus
  12. Spencer Prattdouchebag
  13. Heidi Montag
  14. Rosie O’Donnell- this dude has been on TV long enough- I mean have you ever noticed that at times he sounds like a woman, and he plays female roles. What guy does that? That is stealing jobs from talented actresses, and I won’t stand for it.
  15. Robin Williams
  16. Amy Winehouse
  17. Michael Baymegatron
  18. T. Pain (the black guy from the “I’m on a Boat” video)
  19. Richard Simmons
  20. Barbara Streisandmecha-babs
  21. Kate Gosselin aka the walking uterus that bitches a lot

I will never talk about the celebrities listed above ever again. They are dead to me. Oh, and if you are wondering why I don’t have Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, or Nichole Ricci on this list, it’s because they haven’t been the public eye lately. For all I know, they might have matured. [Stifled laugh]

Alright, I’m done. I need to take a…

-Peace.

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