Suckas.

I’d say it’s time for another round of the ASS game! Though in this case, I suspect this might not be such a gross misrepresentation of facts as it normally is.

Here is the specimen for the Ass game:


B: Oh Angie, look at us!
A: *guffaws* I KNOW!
B: Could we be any hotter?!
A: I think not!
B: Do you see this food we’re supposed to eat? Who cooked this?! Where did this food come from? It looks like bird vomit!
A: I don’t care. I don’t eat food. It’s not good for my body. Food makes you have to go poo and I can’t afford to lose any ounces of weight from my frail, breakable frame. Though my shit smells like roses and that’s a gift for everyone.
B: Well, perhaps you can have my two fries. But then again, that is the only recognizable food on my plate…..
A: If you give them to me, when we get home to our shamefully sized plantation (complete with our multicultural slaves and nannies), I’ll do that thing in the bedroom that you like….. *winks*
B: REALLY?! Promise?!
A: Yup, I’ll even do it twice.
B: Er….. we are talking about that thing where we take private pictures of our mockery of a life and sell them to tabloids right?
A: OF COURSE! Would I ever refer to anything else?
B: GREAT! YES! TAKE THE FUCKING FRIES!
A: *takes a bite* Shit. I’ve got a stomach ache from not eating for 295 days. Where are those damn laxatives?!
B: Hey Ang, there are photographers around. Remember to smile!
A: *beams* It’s too bad we couldn’t bring our children tonight. We always bring them to other inappropriate places!
B: Yeah well… the kids have been working hard and even they deserve to take a break. It’s written into their contract or something.
A: Isn’t it funny how many people buy this?! They love us!
*A and B genuinely laugh and smile*
B: Oh, that just put a million dollars in my pocket. I’ll “pretend” to give it to our imaginary charity and use the money to buy Dubai or something.
A: Oh Brad, I love it when you talk like that.
B: Remember to smile Ang, everyone is eating this shit up.
A: Fucking suckers.

2009!

So it’s me. I realize that I’ve allowed Nos-Chin to overwhelm my blog lately with his self-deprecating, self-pitying, and delusional rants. He’s had a rough few months but enough is enough, eh?! Nos-Chin: STOP COMPLAINING. NO ONE CARES.

I apologize for that.

This is my first blog post of 2009. WOW! 2009, who would have thunk! Y2K feels like it was just a few years ago. I bet all those stores and restaurants that capitalized on the Y2K phenomenon feel kind of dumbass-ish now. Who is going to eat at a restaurant named Y2K in the year 2044? Especially when you can instead eat in your flying car and have gourmet food dispensed to you through machines.

What? The Jetsons did it. We’re thisclose to living in a Jetson’s existence.

So what are my new year’s resolutions for 2009? Well frankly, I don’t have any. Because resolutions are intended to facilitate life changes in those who dislike aspects of themselves. And Miss Nihilist? She’s well aware of how perfect she is. She doesn’t need to change at all!

In fact, if I were to have a new year’s resolution, it would be to make more people just like Miss Nihilist. Because if more people were like me, the world would be a better place. Seriously. Guaranteed. It’s scientifically proven by one Dr. Nefarious.

And a seal of approval from Dr. Nefarious is a-ok with me!

Anyway, best wishes and sugar plum fairies and other equally cheesy crap for the new year. Try not to choke on a chicken bone and die.

2009 is bound to be a bomb, bitches! We're one year closer to living like Judy and George.