Damnit to hell, I get so angry when people forget my birthday, and leave it to me to turn around and (almost!) friggin’ forget my own mother’s. Damn you drugs and all the holes in my head that let all my memories fall out. Now I can’t remember jack-diddly-squat-except, that is, those who are unfortunate enough to forget my birthday.
Archive for the 'Madonna' Category
Tags: bad influence on young children, Celebrities, God, junk food for the brain, katy perry, kisses with dogs, lipstick lesbian, media whore, MTV, MTV VMA, music, nobody cares, people you would love to sucker punch, pop culture, pop stars, proof of the end times the end times, rectal prolapse, slut, stupid, untalented
VMA Soundoff- My Intense Hatred For Katy Perry
Current mood: pure
***** ALERT! ALERT! What you are about to read HAS BAD WORDS IN IT. I REFERENCE BEASTIALITY AND OTHER SEXUAL ACTS OF A (SOMEWHAT) PERVERTED NATURE. NOT INTENDED FOR MY DAUGHTER OR ANY OF HER FRIENDS, CURRENT WORK COLLEAGUES AND ASSOCIATES, FUTURE POTENTIAL EMPLOYERS OF DEAD END JOBS, MY PASTOR, THOSE WHO UNFORTUNATELY ENJOY THE MUSIC OF KATY PERRY, THE LUGE COMMUNITY, AND SUFFERERS OF CHROHN’S DISEASE. YOUNG CHILDREN AND THE ELDERLY SHOULD VIEW ONLY UNDER THE SUPERVISION OF A PARENT OR AN INATTENTIVE TEEN WHO IS UNER THE INFLUENCE OF MIND ALTERING SUBSTANCES. YOU MAY EXPERIENCE NAUSEA OR SUDDEN BURSTS OF IDIOPATHIC DIARRHEA. THOSE WITH TEMPORAL LOBE DAMAGE OR ABNORMALITIES MAY EXPERIENCE SEIZURES OR UNCONTROLLABLE SPASMS OF THE BLADDER. YOU MAY FALL DOWN AND NOT BE ABLE TO GET BACK UP. CERTAIN RESTRICTIONS MAY APPLY> OKAY, I’M DONE NOW.
So you kissed a girl.
Well woohoo, good for you, Miss Katy Perry, you talentless bucket of lusciously long-legged cow dung. I’m glad you pioneered this revolution, because certainly no one else would have ever, ever, figured it out.
I so very much cannot stand Katy Perry. No, not cause she’s prettier than me or anything. Huff. I’m not THAT shallow and insecure. I am perfectly comfortable waddling around in my rapidly-aging skin. You guys should know me better than to just assume I dismiss any hot young vixen I feel remotely threatened by.
Hey, I rock my elderliness. And again, I’m learning that maternity pants have many fun fashionable functions, even when you are not with child. I like elastic panels and stretch denim. Really handy when I make my 10th trip to the starch bar at Old Country Buffet.
No, I hate Katy Perry because HER SONG IS RETARDED!!!!!!!!
A couple days before she was on the VMA’s I saw her on the TODAY show, and I’ll tell ya, I’m not sure which was the most uncomfortable…the 9-year-old girls bouncing together in unison, chanting every lyric, undoubted primed to make out all together on the way home hiding in the back compartment of mom’s mini van…
Slumber parties will never be the same!
“Hey guys, after we eat this pizza let’s make out like Katy Perry and those skanky girls on dad’s “Girls Gone Wild” DVD! Yay! Then we can play Barbies and do each others hair!!! Yay! Hey mom, you wanna play too?!”
But even MORE creepy was Hoda Kotb, who’s like in her 50’s, and Natalie Morales, who’s 36 and preggers…were arm-in-arm, bopping around singing like it was…I dunno…maybe Bon Jovi or something. LOL! I wonder if they looked at each other, in that certain way…and silently communicated…”Yeah Hot Stuff. You. Me. Kathie Lee. In the Green Room…NOW!”
However, the Creep-O-The-Week Award went to a very apparently aroused Matt Lauer and Al Roker, who were saliviating like she was a pork chop and making these weird wet stains in their trousers. Eeww. (I have more to say on this topic, but that’s another blog)
Then she turns up on the VMA’s, singing a really bad cover of “Like A Virgin”, followed up by her catchy little lesbo ditty. I just realized, I had had enough.
And why? Not because I feel like she’s encouraging young girls to try out lipstick lesbianism…with all the bump ‘n grind ass action prevalent in todays media…we all get plenty of exposure to that. And whatever, if you want to kiss girls, cool, that’s your choice. I don’t think it should be particularly peddled to young girls, but that’s not the root of what gets me.
What gets me is girls with marginal talent making risque songs and using them to launch themselves to fame.
I mean, you saw it a bit with Madonna…let’s face it, she is obviously less talent than she motivation. But she was sort of the pioneer of embracing one’s sexuality (“Inner Slut” as I like to call it) and profiteering from it. Had there been no “Like A Virgin” just at the right time, and just more “Holidays” and “Borderlines”…would she really have broken out the way she did? Hmm. I think not. At least not until she put out that book of hers where she got nekkid with Vanilla Ice. (Eeww.)
Also…you got Alanis Morrissette, going down on Uncle Joey from “Full House” (Another massive “Eeww”) in her menstrual angst fest “You Outta Know”.
(Sidebar on that note- Here is a PSA from me to all mens out there…Please, if you have to date Alanis Morrissette…although, I cannot see why you’d want to, she looks kinda like a bonafide American Saddlebred….but hey, maybe that’s what you’re into…please, please, please, do not break up with her. Especially if she has gone down on you in a theatre, and for God’s sake, don’t dump her for Scarlett Johannson. You will have a very angry and hard to listen to record made to avenge your infidelity. Tread lightly, my friend. Tread lightly.)
Then you got the likes of Peaches, going on about father fucking and fucking the pain away…and she was nothing more than a low-rent neuvo Karen Finley, who with her “Tales Of Taboo”…well, as an ’80’s club kid, that was just about as explicit as you could get.
The example that really kills me though is Liz Phair and her “Exile In Guyville” back in 1991. Holy Shit, did guys get off on that one. Here is this really rather plain girl, kinda scrawny, with an average at best voice…who just happened to make a rather amaturish record detailing her love of fucking and blow jobs. Combined with some saucy pics of her half-naked with a guitar, or in a fur coat and bikini…and blammo! A star is born!
I remember certain guys would be so into her, and I would say, “Dude, it’s kinda alright..but it’s not all that!”
“But she gives BLOW JOBS!” was the usual retort.
Really? Wow! What are those? Are they like Charms Blow Pops? I sure do like those!
Really? She gives blow jobs? Really? You mean, just like me and every other twentysomething girl in America?????? Amazing!
Have you never had one?
Were you really fat, and girls just didn’t like you? Really, I just could never get it, the fascination with her and all of lame ass oral sex references.
Are you Amish?
Or did you just suffer from really bad acne as a teenager?
But, then I soon learned…I am a girl. I don’t particularly want to hear songs about other girls giving head. But I also have to say, I would be kinda creeped out by a song blatantly stating that a guy was gonna eat me out like he was at his favorite sushi bar.
(I’m sure there is a song out there somewhere, it just gratefully escapes my mind.)
You know, if I would have known all it would take to make me famous is write some raunchy, tongue-in-cheek songs about getting laid and sucking guys off, I would have released the anthology of coming-of-age classics I had been working on for The Time Life Library. The idea was is you would subscribe, and every month you would receive an exciting new title in the “Man. Does LeDonna LOVE To FUCK!!!!!” collection.
With easy monthly installments of only $9.99, every month, arriving in your mailbox, was your own personal treasury of gems like:
* 20 Cock-Sucking Classics
* 20 More Great Love Songs To Suck Cock By
* I Love Cock N’ Balls (Inspired by Joan Jett)
* Wow, I Love To Fuck
* Boy, Do I Love Balls
* Hey- Random Dude! Do You have A Cock! Well, I’d Like To Suck It!
* Once You Go Black
* Do You Really Want To Nut Me? 20 Great New Wave Classics To Get Pregnant By
* Did I Mention I Like To Fuck? 20 More Songs To Remind You In Case You Forgot
* Sure, Group Sex Is Kewl
* I Love It In The Ass
* I Dig Dildos, But Cock Is So Much Better
* Oh, OK, I Guess I’ll Eat You Out Too
* My Oh My…Please Come In My Eye
…And many, many more! It was great, with your first payment you were supposed to receive my special LeDonnatron Vibe-O-Matic 2000, a pair of Ben-Wa Balls, and a full set of steak knives.
Then, I had Alex. Got married. Had to put my passion for writing great fuck songs aside, and focus on family.
However, In light of this whole Katy Perry thing, I feel like I need to step up and get my 15-minutes of fuck-induced fame. But now, we’re all so jaded. We’ve had the blow-job songs. We’re kissing girls. And anal sex…well, that’s just so yesterday.
If I want to get famous writing something raunchy, I have to break new territory. So, after much thought, I took some inspiration from my little dog Trixie and the excited way she humps my leg…or arm…neck…whatever…and decided to “touch” on the theme of beastiality, but in a fun, playful way, not in some sick horse or goat fucking way. (Eeww.)
I am doing a cute little parody of Ms. Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl”…but instead focusing on my dog. Keep the tune in mind. It’s raw, edgy…I think you’ll like it.
It goes something like this…(imagine italics, I’m on a mac and don’t have a compatible text editor)
** I kissed my dog/and I liked it
The taste of her Iams diet
I kissed my dog /you should try it
Don’t worry she don’t bi-yi-et
It felt so good
It felt so right
It’s 2008 don’t be so damn uptight
Her hair jet black
Ears perked upright
Guess who’ll be my bitch tonight **
Whatdya think? I think I’ve got a hit. Katy Perry, look out…
Tags: adoption, baby names, Celebrities, childhood, comedy, Entertainment, family, high school, Humor, identity, ledonna, ledonna lounge, life, Madonna, Mama, music, names, personal, pop stars, puberty, teenage years
You know, it figures it would have started right at the exact moment I just happened to hit puberty. The universe has its way of jacking with me like that. It gets a real big kick out of fucking with me, likes to tell me I’m an “easy target”. Yeah, I guess I always have been kinda gullible like that.
What the fuck am I talking about, you ask? And what is this nefarious “it” I’m pissing on about,and what does it have to do with that magical, yet subtly perturbing rite of passage that occurs when a girl takes her first wobbly steps down the golden path of her burgeoning womanhood? And, I don’t mean a bat mitzvah-that’s crazy, I’m not even Jewish. You know what I’m talking about.
That “it” is HER. HER!! Yeah, that her, as in the very famous lady in the picture you’re staring right at, who just happens to bear a name that is just too ridiculously similar to mine? You know who I’m talking about. That Miss Queen Of Media herself (no wait, that’s Perez!)…I mean, you know, Queen Of Pop, Queen of the World, Queen Of Sheba, Queen Of Shame, Queen Fucking Bee..whatever. Fucking queen of everything, MADONNA.
Do you have ANY idea what this woman has done to my life? Beginning at about age 13, she latched on to my psyche like a bloodsucking lamprey and has been gnawing her way through the corpulent bowels of my ego ever since. I mean, you remember when Madonna first exploded on the scene, and began herTerminator- esque quest for her Holy Grail of Complete and Total World Domination? Yeah, it was crazy, right? She was every where, you couldn’t escape her- radio, MTV, (or, Friday Night Videos for lame-o’s like me whose parents refused to get cable), the TV, magazines, album covers, posters, cds and cassettes flying all over the place…bad movies…Madonna t-shirts, bandannas, pins, notebooks,mugs, hats, underwear, outerwear, decorative tea cozys,vibrators…you name it, her face, name, ass, something-was on it. (Ok, I’m making up the vibrator part…but you know, now that I think of it…I wonder why there are no Madonna vibrators, dildos, scented massage oils…you think there would be, it’s a natural market…oh, wait,I’m getting a message here… what’s that? An anal plug? Really???? Ok, so, what you’re telling me is there was a limited edition anal plug Madonna was endorsing somewhere around 1987? Huh, interesting. I was not aware of that. Now, that little nugget should come in handy next trivia night!)
The point is that the 80’s were complete Madonna Mania for everyone, everywhere. Now, just stop for a second and put yourself in the shoes of someone whose name is almost just fucking like hers. It was hell, that’s what it was, pure and utter hell. The moment Borderline became a hit and the world fell under that damn strumpet’s spell, was the moment I ceased to be LeDonna…and morphed into LeDonna, The Ultimate Madonna Wannabe.
I didn’t even WANT to be like Madonna, really…ok, you got me. I suppose there was a certain moment when I would look upon her ever-increasing status as an entertainment, fashion and sex icon with perhaps a faint whisper of envy. And not that I particularly ever wanted to be any such thing myself…you know, beautiful, famous, wealthy, desired by the masses…oh, good heavens, no! Not me. No no no no no no.
Around the Sean Penn had dumped Madonna and she started showing up to awards shows with Micheal Jackson, I threw up my hands in defeat. Obviously, she was a creative force to be reckoned with, and much like that blasted ingrown toenail I’d been battling with since my freshman year that refused to heal-she certainly wasn’t about to give up and just go away, and in fact, was growing larger and more noticeable each and every day. I had to accept that Madonna had become a permanent cross-stitch in the fabric of my life.
It probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much that she had started this fashion phenomenon and all the hip girls were dressing like her and looking cute if I hadn’t been so damn fat. Those ripped tees,mesh tanks and black rubber bracelets that looked so cute on all the skinny girls-if you put that same outfit on me, I looked like something fished up out of the Hudson River. Now I’ll just throw on a dead body and maybe one of those plastic 6-pack holders…alright! Let’s go! I’m into the groove!
Everytime my name was mentioned, I would hear someone-somewhere-“Madonna”? As if, where? Here?! No, dipshit. Madonna is no where in the vicinity, today’s not your lucky day, you didn’t win the lottery or anything. It’s just me. LE-D0N-NA.
When I’m introduced to someone, 9 times out of ten, they will look at me quizically and say,“Madonna?!”, like I’m fucking with them somehow, playing some silly name game. “You’re not Madonna!” is one I get a lot. “I’m NOT?” I’d shoot back in astonishment. “Good God, you’re absolutely right. What was I thinking? There I go again, just assuming the identity of some random celebrity as my own…damn shrink was supposed to adjust my medication. I’m so sorry, this won’t happen again”.
Then I would be forced to clarify. “No, It’s LeDonna, kinda like Madonna, but with an ‘L’ instead of ‘M’…and ‘e’ instead of ‘a’, but it still sounds the same! Oh, and I get a big D, not a little one like hers”.
“So it’s like two names?” gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I always dreaded the start of each new school year, because it was inevitable at least half the teachers would totally bungle my name, they could never tell if it was “Lee” or “Donna” or “Lee-Donna”,none of which were correct.
“So is your first name ‘Lee’, or is it ‘Donna’, and your middle name’s Lee?”
Yeah, Miss Lady with The Master’s Degree. My first name is Donna, middle name is Le, and my last name is Lee. That makes perfect sense. Donna Le Lee. Donna Le Lee, that’s me! You know, my mother was crazy, and yes, a touch redneck,but she wasn’t so out of her freaking mental galaxy that she would dream up a name as stoopid as “Donna Le Lee”. If she had, I surely would not be standing before right now, because I would have already committed suicide the moment I realized I was actually supposed to spend the rest of my days with a name that sounds like I’m a back-up dancer for Don Ho.
And please, let’s not even get started on my middle name.
“Alright, what’s your middle initial?”
“What does that stand for?”
“No, what does it stand for?”
“No, I mean, what does the “K” stand for? ”
“Honey, are you speaking spanish, is that it, are you trying to say ‘what’? I didn’t mean “que” as in “que-so”,I meant, what does the letter ‘K’ stand for in your name?”
“IT STANDS FOR KAY. K-A-Y, MOTHERFUCKING KAY! AS IN MARY ‘KAY’, RHYMES WITH GAY, KAY!!!! Do you understand me now?”
“Oh, yes, I see, Kay! LeDonna Kay Lee. My, isn’t that just the prettiest name!”
You four-eyed fat fuck of a liar. You don’t have to patronize. I know my name sucks.
Actually, I have made peace and grown to like my name. I think it sounds kinda cool, kinda like a movie star. LeDonna Lee. Which is awesome, because one day, I will be. I haven’t given up dreams of entertainment glory. As long as there are webcams and pornos, I still have hope.