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**a good number of my blog posts are about me bitching about not blogging**
I will no longer start each new post whining about how regretful I feel that I haven’t been blogging regularly. I will now just blog. About. Whatever.
Which is sort of how I roll anyways.
Or, I will not blog at all.
Which will pretty much speak for itself.
I am working on a parody for this poking fun at our crumbling economy and the collapse of the American Dollar! Hooray!
Tags: Availabe for your next bar mitzvah, funny girl. she should be on tv talking somewhere cause she's really freaking funny, jimmy fallon jimmy fallon jimmy fallon jimmy fallon jimmy fallon jimmy fallon jimmy fallon, ledonna, ledonna hittin the jackpot, ledonna style, sassy, There's a Jerry Stiller in her head, Turning dreams into reality, vision
I am writing a song solely and specifically designed to categorically and methodically woo and fetch me one Jimmy Fallon. No, not for such nonsensical sexual purposes like you think I would be attempting to woo Mr. Fallon for. (Although, this girl could only dream). This is a song I am going to make a video to throw on You Tube and do my damndest to get his attention. And honestly, in this crazy viral video age, I don’t think it’s going to be that hard. If Rebecca Black can do it, I sure as hell better be able to trump that.
It’ll be kinda like an audition! But better, because I’m sure I’ll flash my boobs. Oh wait, I guess I could do that in person too. I just know if I could spend just one hour…well, any length of time…face-to-face with Jimmy, he would see my talent, and he would love me. Period! I have years of material I have worked on and never shown anyone…lest I jinx its magic! I have been saving it for one man. One man. One man that I seriously believe that if I could get an appointment with him, and had my goods together…we would be good to go. Solid Gold.
I am tired of dreaming. This is my life, and I’m about to make some magic happen, you just watch. 🙂
In light of Scarlett’s marital woes, I am dedicating one of her own songs to herself. I think she will find it it fitting, touching, winsome… or perhaps just a touch annoying. But whatever. She’ll at least be happy that I was thinking about her, I’m sure. (*Yes, we are close like that*)
Tags: Alanis Morrisette, Ass Branding, Cat Scratch Fever, Cool Tattoos, Ryan Reynolds, Scarlet Letters, Scarlett Fever, Scarlett Johansson
And who would have thought? It really does figure!
I find it highly, highly amusing and am really tripped out by the synchronicity here….
So, If you (who care) can recall, I believe it was Ryan “Sexiest Man Alive” Reynolds who ditched (and whyyyyyyy, because “you outta know” that if you do this, she’s gonna write a really hateful song about you) Alanis Morrissette back in 200-oh wtfeverland, because he was so sooper hot he was gonna bag the world’s most favorite ooberbabe ( or shall I say, ‘booberbabe’? ) Scarlett Johansson. Which he did, he bagged her, dragged her and tagged her as his wife, in a union that at the time I thought was kind of weird, because at the time…did anyone ***really*** know who Ryan Reynolds was?
So now, it looks like Ryan’s choking on a little jagged little pill called Scarlett Johansson dumping his **truly** handsome ass, leaving him with his own case of Scarlett Fever, and his own ‘Scarlett’ Letter to boot (the letter would be be “D” for dumbass, that’s what I’m thinking). So where exactly do they put Scarlet Letters these days…do they get branded on the ass, like a cow? Or are they still embroidered on a handsome ascot or kerchief of some sort? I guess the new hip way would be to get it tattooed, like on your forehead. Now that would make a statement.
The even funnier piece to complete this sad little travel puzzle for those who wear helmets, is that Alanis has moved on, and actually managed to spawn her new baby boy in an almost astrologically brilliant touchdown move that coincides and actually somewhat trumps the date of the filing of her former estranged lover’s divorce petition. Huzzah~!!!!!!! Ah ha ha. Exquisite.
And the even BETTER part…the lil’ box o’ massengill apparently has gone back to Alanis for “support” during this tough time. I hope secretly, she kicked him in the ballsack, just a little, because obviously, he outta know by now, he had it coming to him.
I think maybe Ryan and Dave Coulier should get together and maybe start their own little support group, where they could meet up at the movies and reminisce about their happier times with Alanis.
Crap! I don’t like how these photos are going to layout, but I have no more freaking patience.
Sigh. You know, all of this really, really, is too good to be true.
Further proof there is a God, and one with a sense on humor. I truly believe that there is power in a name, and this is a spectacular example of really, what is in a name?!
From the looks of the way his life has played out thusfar, it seems that the name “Tiger Woods” is indeed more than fitting and packed with a plethora of double entendres.
At first, I honestly thought his name was ridiculous. Also, you have to understand, I am really not a fan of golf. For me, no offense now to all my golfing fans (and indeed, there are so many of you!) , golf may just be the blandest, most boring, most yawn inducing sport on the planet. I mean, I guess how I see why it’s challenging. But I truly believe that golf was created by a bunch of wealthy people who wanted to pretend they were being “active”, while creating an environment where they could relax and enrobe themselves in their smashingly stuffy and snobbish splendor, promenade about luxurious green pastures, lollygag in pristine clubs of the country, and ride around in jaunty fun carts all whilst sporting fabulous visors and madras plaid shorts. Preppy people needed a place to “prep” metaphorically speaking, in a social arena outside of mansions and preparatory schools. So they created the game of golf to accomplish this.
So, in my eyes, here we have this man who is about as exciting as early vegan dietary options, who looks to a little black on the outside, but on the inside is as about as milky white as well…skim milk. He doesn’t even appear initially to be as full bodied as whole milk, let alone heavy cream. Tiger always appeared rather wimpy and anemic to me ,he was limp and nerdy, very harmless and pastel, not at all the image of a roaring,aggressive, flesh hungry beast on the prowl.
Boy, was I wrong!
Turns out, he embodies all the qualities his name implies, and then some!
Turns out Tiger indeed a man with Wood.(s) plural, obviously. Lots of woods, lots and lots and lots and lots…of woods. And he is quite the “Tiger” . Grr. Gooooooooooo get ’em, Tiger! By the tail! Oh, but wait, that’s what he’s been doing already.
I wonder how influential those Kellogg’s commercials were in blowing up this poor boys ego. I can see him as a little boy on the green growling, “I’m grrrrreeeaat!” every time he got a hole in one. You know if he was smart he could spin this thing and slap a suit on Kelloggs claiming they are responsible for planting the seed that germinated into his blooming Narcissus.
And I wonder, was it a “wood”, or a “9-iron” that Elin “didn’t” try to clock him with that night of the crash? Hahaha! The irony is killing me!