|Looks absolutely nothing like my mailman.|
Being a super sexy famous television blogger is a lot like being a rock star: stacks of hot wet cash, ladies constantly trying to jack your D, diseases, lots of diseases. But there's a downside, too. Like having to respond to your stupid readers. Ugh. And my readers are the friggin' stupidest. So every once in a while -- in between the D-jackin and the paper stackin' -- I have to take a moment and reply to all these dipshits.
So here is the latest installment of the TVMWW Mailborg. A lotta questions this time (six!), so let's start jackin'.
From: @Kunk7 (This was actually a tweet.)
Do I really have to send you an email to submit a question for the blorgspot mohelbag?
Obviously you don't have to do that. You don't have to do anything. This is America, you can do whatever you want. I saw a guy this morning on the subway wearing a braided belt, AND NO ONE BATTED AN EYE.
It's amazing that people actually care about rules. You think Don Draper cares about rules? C'mon. He only cares about one thing and one thing only: JACKIN' HIS D. Khaleesi? You think she gives a shit about the rules of war? The answer is NO AND OMG IT WASN'T EVEN A REAL QUESTION. All she wants to do is put together the illest army in the seven kingdoms, win back the throne, protect the realm, and JACK DUDES' Ds!
Think about it, all the dopest people on television do whatever they want. Si from Duck Dynasty, you can't tell that guy what to do, he doesn't listen to anyone. Pat Sajak? He'll ring that bell for the final puzzle whenever he wants. Then he'll just grab the wheel and spin it around and boom, before you know it, R S T L N E, three more letters and a vowel, category is "Thing", that doesn't help anybody, that's not even a category, time's ticking, eh eh, buzzer sounds, game over, no one wins, get over here Vanna, let's show the # of tonight's Spin ID winner, what the hell is a Spin ID #, no one knows, how do you even sign up for it, there are no rules on Wheel of Forch, other than Pat Saje is a bonafide poon hound.
So the next time I have one of these stupid mailborg posts, I want all of you idiots to know that I will post any and all of your questions. I don't care if they're from Twitter, Foursqbook, brunch, whatever. Ask me a question, I'll post it. I'm telling you, I am very lonely. Very, VERY lonely.
|Calm down, lady. It's only 19 hundj.|
From: @meechone (This was also a tweet.)
I have a question for the morborg: WHO CAREEESSSSS???????
OMG WHO CAREEEESSSSSSSSSSS??????? A mailborg post? Why would I do this? Why would I think that anyone would give enough of a shit to write in and ask me questions. Ugh, like I'm some sort of TV expert? OMG TRICK QUESTION I AM AN EXPERT. And as you're reading this, I bet you're thinking, "OMG he totally is and I totally shoulda sent in a question! I'm so sad! I'm gonna go jack my D!"
Honestly though, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. That's essentially the main problem I have with my wife. She thinks things matter. I don't. I didn't take the trash out? ... LET'S GO BERZERKER ... The lawn needs to be mowed today or else? ... OR ELSE THE GRASS WILL KILL US ... Evan, do not put those firecrackers in your butt, you'll blow your butt off ... IT'S NOT EVEN A REAL BUTT.
I think "WHO CARESSSSSS????" will be the official TVMWW mantra for 2013. A nice change of pace considering 2012's mantra was "GET SERIOUS." But this is a new year, and a new era. Also, it's not even a new year. What are we in, May? Ugh, this year's pretty much over. And I've only gained like 15 Twitter followers. What the hell am I gonna do for New Year's? Prolly stay home and jack my D, just like every other year. It's gonna be great.
|PROLLY THE BEST POST I EVER WROTE.|
From: @jackichace (Another stinkin' tweet. Is it that hard to email?)
My submish to
Seriously, all you readers who only check in for the Bach -- GET OVER YOURSELVES -- this blogspot.com is filled with literally DOZENS of interesting pictures and A FEW decent captions. All the other words in between those pics, meh, but the photos! Oh, the photos!
Also, do you realize that the new Bachelorette seez starts on May 27th?!?! That's really, really, really soon. And remember, because Des is the new Bachelorette, we'll get to see her idiot brother again!!!
THAT GUY DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING.
Hey Des's brother, you really shouldn't get those tattoos on your forearms cuz people will think you're a lowlife piece of shit. DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, PLAYBOY. I'M A RENEGADE!
I don't know what I think of Des being the new Bachelorette. Part of me is like, ugh, another goddamn white woman, and another part of me is like, WHO CARESSSSSSSSSSSSS?????????, because it's the dudes that make this show. They're the ones who break out the guitars, and write poems, and GET MAD ABOUT STUFF, and rock V-necks, and jack their Ds, and WEAR SNEAKERS, and sign up for the wrong reasons, and SIT ON COUCHES WITH THEIR LEGS TAKING UP TOO MUCH ROOM, and kiss women on the hands when they meet them, and oh baby I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait!!!
|Rockin da Abe Linc beard!|
Finally an actual question! Although I have no idea what this lady is asking. Who would I choose for what? To have brunch with? I actually really like the vagueness of this question, and it's a tough call. Partially because I like George Clooney, but mostly because I have no idea who Paul Krugman is. Is he that NYT financial writer? I guess I could google him. I'm gonna google him.
HE IS THAT NYT FINANCIAL WRITER!
Aw man, I'm definitely choosing George Cloons. Is it even a debate? Do people find Paul Krugs sexy? Was this question even about sex? How could a question like this not be about sex? WHY DOES ANYONE EVER GO TO BRUNCH????
QUICK STORY ABOUT GEORGE CLOONS: My brother in law's girlfriend (who is a very nice lady) happens to know someone who knows someone who knows someone whose family has a villa in southern Italy. Wait, that doesn't sound right. They don't have a villa. That'd be ridiculous. They have a house in a villa. I dunno. But they have some sort of house in some sort of town where George Cloons frequents. So one day, some person was down in the village and meets an Italian guy who sells cheese or something and was like, "Hey, I just saw George Cloons!" and the cheese guy was like, "Ohhhh, yeahhhh, George Cloons, he-ah come here all the time-ah," and the other person was like, "Oh really? He comes with his girlfriend?" and the Italian guy was like, "Ohhhhh, no-ah. George-ah Clooney? He like-ah-da-boys." And the other person was like, "What? Really? He like-ah-da-boys?" and the Italian dude was like, "Oh, yes. He like-ah-da-boys," and then gave some sort of wink/eyebrow raise to reinforce that George Clooney definitely like-ah-da-boys.
I mean, it's long been rumored that George Cloons like-ah-da-boys, but that story pretty much convinced me 100% that he like-ah-da-boys. So that's cool for George Cloons. Maybe one day he'll feel comfortable enough coming out. Maybe I will too.
|Honestly I just saw a dude in Urban Outfitters wearing this same outfit.|
From: Scott Rawhouser
May 27th!!! Are you ready to GET SERIOUS??? Wait, no, I mean, WHO CARESSSSSS???? Ugh, I obviously care. This is the worst mantra ever. I care about so many things. I'll tell ya what though, this guy doesn't care about anything. He likes pizza!