Monday, January 11, 2010

"Hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid

Alright alright alright! We’re finally back. Who missed us? Who missed spontaneous and unnecessary curse words being directed at you for no reason, bitches? Who missed miles of long, rambling sentences, made-up words, and largely pointless, bulleted lists? Well we’re back for good and thanks very much to Justin Stover for telling us we really were funny, even though I’m still quite sure that through all that benevolence and heroic beard hair, it was probably just manners…that’s besides the point. So in lieu of our billions of awesome stories and emotional adventures, strengthening us both physically and mentally, shaping strong, fierce women in the face of every adversity (with the exception of race, gender, religious affiliation, education, upbringing, stereotyping, etc), I’m just going to paraphrase 2009 for you real quick:

You know what? None of your business. But we all had a little dick on our chins at some point. So there.

So 2009 is over, and six days in, 2010 already has a best film (according to the radio, its 9, whatever that is). Glad that’s out of the way. Now if I could just kick this existential life crisis we’ll really be cooking…but I wanted to kiss off 2k9 at least a little, because some of the shit that happened this year is really unbelievable. The Press acts like the biggest news story of the year is the divorce of Jon and Kate, sorry Obama! The Red Wings take a bone-broke single-season shame spiral, everybody almost gets to call in dead with the incurable death flu, Jack White plays the drums with his penis, and Stephtendo DS finally moves upstairs.

Get ready to get a little shame on your shirts (unless you’re wearing a shame bib or have a shameWOW!), here is a little list of things that were embarrassingly awesome about 2009:

The Lonely Island Incredibad. T Pain, Jack Black, and Julian Cassablancas (how we’ve missed you!) back up the lily-white punk thugs from SNL for an excellent satire album, complete with behind-the-scenes Padme and why the Space Olympics is the best idea ever. Spurting catch phrases all over the place like “its all about the Hamiltons baby,” “Like A Boss,” and of course “I’m on a boat, bitch!” this album is everything Sandberg needed to cement a job when SNL stops trying to censor him. Check out “Boombox” for life-lesson joy. Shortay!

The ubiquitous touch screen cell phone. Everybody has that shit now. Thank god, finally a way to avoid talking to or making eye-contact with your friends that are near you, when the ones that aren’t are far more interesting! No, I don’t want to see your new app that makes you even more annoying when you try to show everybody your new app.

Jacob. At least if this Twilight shit never goes away the rest of us girls who don’t read the books and prefer their men with a little color and tone and hair that doesn’t totally suck will have something all underage and ripply to oogle all creepy like while our eyes are glazed over and drool pools in our lower lip as the media continues it’s relentless assault. Vampires totally suck. Now somebody get that poor kid a towel! He’s always so wet!

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. This just really had to happen. Now that’s what I call a happy ending!

The giant blue dong in the Watchmen. The movie was so-so, but we got there late on opening night and had to sit too close to the IMAX screen…to this day when I close my eyes I can still see it glowing…

Just Haven’t Met You Yet by Michael Buble. Besides the fact that I think he wrote that about me, this infectious little number is adorable and the video is adorable and Buble is adorable and just when you thought W-lite played xmas music all year…I warn you though…if you decide to YouTube this based on my recommendation, it will be plastered into your skull for the next three weeks minimum. It’s like the awesome Canadian version of Montezuma’s revenge. My last trip to Family Fare, all I got was an artichoke and a dirty look from a thousand year old lady for taking all her raisins or something like that…some bitches get everything. I don’t even like raisins…

Good Little Friday. Day off, sunshine, bottle of El Toro, Bubba, KP, Stephtendo, the sprinkler, all-you-can-eat lake perch, Mad Libs, Busch Lite, karaoke, Little Feat, and Jake Busey. I don’t think I missed anything…but Bubba? (grabs boob, pushes up) I have some bad news…

Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus. Yes, it surprised me too. Picture this: 12:30 am New Years Day and the room is full of sweaty hammered hipsters wearing various levels of formal undress. They are dancing and blah blah blah, and the DJ plays this song. They went ape shit! Everybody was indeed throwing their hands up and bobbing their heads like yeah. Damn Miley! Your totally retarded party jam is actually awesome! Now how the hell does your cardigan make you a normal girl again?

Star Trek the movie. Ha ha! You thought I was serious…nerd please.

Sarah Palin. Man that bitch is rogue! I want to be rogue like her! She is so rogue and mavericky and stuff with her security and awesome five chapter manifesto about how magical it is to be rogue. Ready for her plan for world domination? A talk show. At least maybe the unwashed masses will be ready when the moose population of northern Alaska decide to annex Wasilla…just try it: Next time you sit down to a lovely plate of nachos or Hot Pockets or pigs-in-a-blankets, don’t just eat them, go rogue on that shit! Don’t just talk to the people at the bank, go rogue! Keep your cash in a coffee can under the floorboards of your trailer. The only way for America to move forward is to regress to the golden age of pioneering mountain men.

Heavy Metal. I know it isn’t new, but you simply can’t beat watching your two dearest friends emerge from the pit SOAKED in blood and thirsty for more. GWAR ’08 was nothing compared to GWAR ’09. More blood, and more space jizz than you can see through. While, Cannibal Corpse is just like watching Dethklok live, and the etiquette within the pit is surprisingly civil. KP screams “Just Hit Me! AAAHHHH!” and these sweaty, tattooed crazy people are all like “sorry, sweetheart”. The balloon animals were just plain nice.

Neil Diamond. He just is. And January 24 is his 69th (yeah!! fist pump!) birthday so we better see you all Diamond-And-Dashing and frolicking all over the West Side spreading the Gift of Neil to anyplace with a karaoke machine. Don’t forget your chest wig! More to come on this one…

Scareyoke. I know we talked about this before so there is no excuse why we shouldn’t see you there. Just say the grossest thing you can possibly think of to your friendly server and there will either be a drink special or harassment case in it for you!

ArtPrize.

• Our new kitty. His name is Soren and he is just an adorable little guy. We got him at Lollapalooza (thanks, Jesse!) and he’s blonde and wonderful. If you would like to send him a check, please contact us and we’ll hook you up with an address but we are in charge of making soup and knit goods for him, so please restrict your gifts to monetary items only. Thank you.

If you’ve made it all the way to the end of this list, you’ll be able to see why we needed TShirtSize:Awesome back…times is tough! Slim pickins! Well we’re going to try our best to recover some of the face that we lost in ’09 and make ’10 a little less super-lame. I have a list of nerds to pound that is 10 miles long. If you want to help me, jump on our little wagon and help de-lame this town! See you soon!