I had this dream last night that I was Godzilla and that I was eating Tokyo, and that Tokyo tasted like oreo cookies. I would take a bite out of a building, and it would be delicious and oreoy. That's what I get for not eating a proper dinner.

YOU BITCHES. YOU BITCHES!!!!  

I, of course, am talking to the makers of those long-ass Celebrex commercials that never end; you know, the ones where the outlines of all the animation is actually legal type that explains that Celebrex will fucking kill you if you take it. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Celebrex, it is a prescription pill that allows you to perceive the meaning of the universe or some crap like that, and it was presented in these commercials where old people were doing Tai Chi in the park. And they were all smiling.

The something awful happened. Someone took some Celebrex to make their weiner longer and harder, and he died. This lead to a lawsuit. After the lawsuit, Celebrex got a lot of bad publicity and they pulled all their commercials off the air.

Unfortunately for the drug company, they had all this Celebrex laying around in huge piles. They would often look at each other, bewildered, and go "What are we going to do with all this Celebrex?" and they tried to do several different things with it, including burning it, eating it, using the pills as cat litter, and finally, using massive quantities of the pills to plug holes in damaged levees.

Eventually, they decided to try selling Celebrex on the open market again rather than in darkened back alleys to screaming psychopathic vagabonds on skidrow who always think spiders are crawling all over them when in fact, there is nothing there. But, because of the lawsuit, Celebrex has to air these ridiculous 16-minute commercials that explain that Celebrex is safe, yet dangerous, essentially saying "There's a pretty good chance that this product will not kill you, so go ahead and buy it. Also, interesting fact: more people die by falling off step-ladder than from our product. How you like them apples, bitch?"

Celebrex Stats:
type - pill
side effects - instant death, brain damage, your soul will be sold to Satan, Lord of Darkness and Fallen Angels

Something similiar happened with Yaz. Originally, it was advertised as a birth control pill that one could take to stop bloody eggs from sliding out of their uterus every month. Or so we thought. The commercial ran something like this: A bunch of gal pals are at a party together just having fun, when one of them bursts into a spontaneous, uncalled-for monologue about the benefits and risks of Yaz. The commercial's creators attempted (and failed) to make the conversation seem more authentic by making the girls listening to the salespitch go "Wow, you really know your stuff!" Indeed, girls, she knows her stuff. After this, the salespitching girl goes "I didn't go to medical school for nothing!" and laughs hysterically, and then adds "But seriously, ladies, talk to your doctor about Yaz." and why the hell were they talking about Yaz at a party? Oh right. It's a party. Time to get drunk and then get fucked in some stranger's bedroom. Imagine telling your child where they came from. "Why aren't you and Daddy married?" Little Marie would ask, to which you would reply "Well, we were never really in love. I just downed hen like there was no tomorrow, and stuff happened, and then you came along." and then you would turn to the camera and say "And that ladies, is why you should talk to your doctor about Yaz."

Anyhow, I guess some girls took Yaz and it turned their vaginas into a forsaken hellscape from the netherworld. Then there was a lawsuit, and now the girl from the party who did the salespitch now has to do another new commercial explaining that she failed to inform girls that Yaz was designed to make your ass bigger or something. I don't know. I think there's a pill that does that.

Oh wait, it's called cake.

Ninja battle, no doubt.

   

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

Let's face it: you're a douchebag. You know it. I know it. We all know it. Obscure undiscovered Amazon river tribes know it. I know it's not easy to quit, but it's like the sticky-icky and you can quit. But you want to. But you can't. If you need encouragement to quit, here are some words from TroothProductions: "If you're a douchebag, then fuck you. Fuck... you. You stupid fuck. What the fuck. Do you wake up each day with the goal of setting record-breaking new levels of stupidity? You should be in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the biggest fucktard in the history of history."

Luckily for you, I've assembled a team of experts to deliver you these tips to reduce your doucheyness:

1. Stop being such a fucking hypocrite.

Let me give an example. Between bouts of praying and Bible-reading, you see these kids smoking. You walk up to them and tell them "You shouldn't smoke. It causes deformed infants." and then when they reply using colorful language explaining that they don't care, you tell them you love them, because you want brownie points with God so you can get to Heaven, and then walk away triumphantly. Later, you go to a party and get loaded.

Stop it.

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2. Shut the fuck up.

Don't talk back to me. Shut up, you moron. No one likes a douchebag who just will not stop talking about stuff no one cares about. If your tirades are met with tons of sarcasm, eye-rolling, stunned silence, people walking away, and knives being pulled, then that's a good indicator that when you talk, it makes people hate your guts, and so you obviously should just shut it. Geeze.

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3. Go fuck yourself!

I'm serious. A lack of healthy, adult sexual expression creates a lot of suppressed emotional energy that needs to be expended. I'm not a scientist (but I play one on television. My character is the sassy, back-talking genius that was put into the show because the cast was all men, and they needed a strong, free-minded female voice to balance it out, but also pull in a larger demographic so they can make more money from ads. Hm, perhaps I've said too much...) but I'm pretty sure that a drought of sexual pleasure will cause certain chemicals to build up in the brain, causing stress, and these chemicals can only be released by the stimulation of certain nerves that trigger only when experiencing sexual pleasure, SO GO FUCK YOURSELF!

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Have a nice day. =)

Remember me?

It's your favorite reclusive, semi-anonymous, StarCraft-addicted, porn-ruining, girl-power Xanga blogger. I didn't want to post for awhile, as sort of a Xanga de-tox program to help me think clearly without factoring Xanga into the equation, and I'm totally going to kicked out of Xanga-rehab for posting this. I am so weak, though. I couldn't help myself.

I also had to be rushed to a special terrorism shelter, because there was a major chemical attack scare in my area, and the sirens went off and everything. It turns out that someone just left the lid off of a bottle of Windex (Which brightens and shines all surfaces and cuts through the toughest grime) but that was enough to raise the State Terrorism Alert Level to Code 6, which is usually reserved for nuclear bombardment. It was pretty serious. Some guy was coughing from the fumes for like 2 minutes, which was kind of scary.

What really made me want to post was this post by Paul_Parmesancheese: Link.

More Dan-bashing? Really?

Oh wait, I forgot how seriously people take the super-cereal business on Xanga. It's not just blogging, it's a power-struggle for the last twinkies on Earth after a zombie/nuclear apocalypse. That should be Xanga's new slogan, replacing "The Blogging Community".

Clearly, there is no freedom for the much-discussed LITTLE BLOGGERS until the oppressive whip of Dan's blog is completely pwned. Why not just don a Guy Fawkes mask and declare yourself the victorious vindictive vicious vicar of vanquishing the villainous vermin of blogging and vlogging on Xanga's vandalized landscape, by vulupcious Vikings, who verily invested a lot of money in the vortex of the vitamin market via advice from Voldemort, who uses a violin to violate his vagina.

I could totally understand if Dan posted this:

Then I would gasp and then exclaim "KING OF TEH XANGANETS!?" and then go to my little bloggy thing here and write "lyke omg today i wuz readin that thetheolgincafe thinks he king of teh xanga and i was lyke 'oh no he did not just say that' and im still like who does he think he is???" I would then read my post over, decide there are no spelling errors, yell "BRILLIANCE!" and post it, and get five hundred trillion and three comments about people's opinions, because if anything garners attention, it's posting about Dan.

But seriously, Paul. You had to expect this. I'm obviously a mindless peon of Dan's popularity contest, and am only writing this sycophantically to win at xanga. Therefore, I think your priorities are kind of out of order if you consider fighting the power of The Dan something you need to do in order to... I'm not even sure what. Don't you have anything better to do?

Finally, do you even have any idea about how many people Dan has helped out because of his Xanga site?

Wow.

I just threw a huge temper-tantrum and now I feel silly. I pounded on a wall, and now there's a red and purple-ish bruise on my pinky. My poor pinky... what did it ever do wrong?

Recommend this post.

:p

Fuck fucker fucking shit porn cock bitches asshole fucker fuck shit.

I did that, because if this happens to show up on Top Blogs, I want to snicker at the censorship. If you find that tasteless, then unsubscribe right now, and block me from your site. Then write a blog to say how bad my blog is on your blog. Then go to dinner by yourself. Go up to the host and say "Table for one please." Next, sneak into the backroom and attempt to bathe in the sink while no one is looking.

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Seal of (non) approval: This blog has not been approved by c_jamaica, and as such, is trash.

First of all, before I go into my post, I want to mention something that irritates me. I just want to say that earlier last week, a post was featured that was not-so-fresh towards TheTheologiansCafe. John then wrote a post apologizing, and this in itself isn't bad, because being thoughtful and considerate are good Christian values, but there have been at least 6 posts featured that have bashed me personally. Where's my apology?

I will only provide the links if TheTheologiansCafe asks me to on his site. I really need the traffic. Traffic is my cigarette; I can't quit, and it's giving me lung cancer and a raspy voice. Like a witch. I might adopt a black cat, and name it after a popular personality. I'm not sure who yet, but I have it rounded down to: The Rock (boy), Amy Winehouse (girl).

Okay, now for my deepness.

Get ready for it.

Maybe do some stretches.

You don't want to tear your groin.

.

..

...

....

.....

Alright, ready?

Today, I was thinking about hard life is, but how far I've come. The overwhelming waves of nostalgia washed over my thoughts as I tossed small stones into the brook. The highs, the lows, the middle-area-part; I've learned to snatch hope from tragedy right out of my snatch, because life is too short to not take deep breaths, look up at the clouds, observe the trees swaying in the wind as it blows through your hair, walk in the grass barefoot, look at the little magpies fluttering playfully, look at the previously-hidden puma, run on the grass barefoot from the puma, scream because of the puma, and then be consumed by the puma. Nature is just beautiful. It represents ultimate peace, not counting certain types of parasites that burrow into the stomaches of birds and eat their intestines, then lay their eggs inside the bird's body.

It's reflections like these that cause me to look into my soul and ask if my self-expression is natural, and then I realize it's not, because I wear clothes, use toothpaste, take showers with soap, eat processed food, and listen to the radio. I'm reminded that I am very human, but then remember that most of the people who hurt me emotionally are also humans, thus leading me to tell myself that all humans are bad, and making me block out my humanity. I then tell myself that my material possessions aren't what make me different from nature, NAY, it's how I feel.

I want to feel free, serene, and happy. I want to feel never-ending rays of sunshine on my face, disregarding that the UV rays would probably beat the shit out of my skin cells.

I look at how we're destroying the earth, and it makes me so sad, because the earth is so beautiful. It's horrible how companies dump waste into lakes, and so tragic that we all stand by while it happens. It makes me want to stop drinking bottled water, but the tap water scares me, and every other kind of beverage scares me more. There's like nothing I can do. I mean, I want so bad to save our planet, but I don't want to expose myself to very tiny amounts of risk. It's because of those humans who hurt me emotionally... damn them... AND OH GOD I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS...

...okay, I can only be "deep" for a few paragraphs (albeit sarcastically) before I crack. I'm sorry. The tiny devil version of myself on my shoulder keeps telling me to be silly. To quote Porcupinesol, "Fucking fuckers fuck shit." and these are words to live by. I remember about a year ago, I walked into an unnamed Sub shop, which we will refer to as "Subway" for now, and I tried to take the experience and turn it into something really profound, but it didn't really work out, but at least I got a sandwich. And I love sandwiches. Ham, turkey, even roast beef sometimes.

Well, I guess it's time to go back to my Xanga-wide underground conspiracy to suppress all the good bloggers because I hate them. I also hate people with cancer and have used my powers of telepathy to hurt cancer victims via Xanga, because I'm an internet gangsta who pops literary caps into the asses of straight trippin' mark-ass posers. Not poseurs. Think about it, Grammar Nazis, if one poses as something they're not, then what does that make them? A poser, one who poses, you Grammar Nazis, but you can't realize that, but then again, that's why the Grammar Allies have landed in Grammar Normandy while the Grammar Russians are coming to take Grammar Berlin.

Anyhow, I'll elaborate moar on that later.

LEAVE A COMM-  ah, fuck it.

My question to you is:

Yes or no?

Well, it's now the very early hours of April Fool's Day, so expect a bunch of stupid pranks. Don't click on any links; they all lead to you getting rick-rolled, or to this.

The first idea I had for my own prank was to make a post entitled "Goodbye, Xanga", and then fill it with the following:

After a lot of thought and consideration, I've decided that it is time for me to move on from Xanga. So I have to say with a heavy heart that I will miss you all, I will miss blogging here and I will miss all the memories. I'll never forget all the good times I had blogging on Xanga. It seems like just yesterday that I... etc.

That just seemed way too mean. It would make Ritzy cry. And it would make LeftWristTwist cry. He would just break down into heavy sobbing. Ironstove would look to the heavens and yell "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" while Cheesebadger runs himself through with a ninja sword. Drakonskyr would begin binge drinking, but then again, I have a feeling that would happen anyhow. C_Jamaica would realize how much she misses me. She would say "You know, I really miss AvenueToTheReal on Top Blogs. She was a REAL blogger and I have to admit, was far wittier than I could ever hope to be."

She'd say more; it'd be a multi-paragraph masterpiece of literary vomit, but I digress.

And I hate digressing.

Next, I was thinking about making a celebrity blogger on x deal. Although, I'm not sure why they'd be on "x". Besides, all the x being pushed now is fake shit. I remember when it was made in a laboratory in Sweden.

Okay, but wouldn't it make more sense to make them "on crack" or "on steroids"? Whoever made that site failed. Even if it was Rob. IT BETTER NOT BE YOU, ROB. Anyhow, I was thinking about doing Britney Spears, Collegecallgirl, Whatthebuck, Sarah Silverman, TheWineKone, TheAtheologiansCafe, TheBlackantisoccerlusaskyrsCafeToTheReal, Ann Coulter, and even Barack Obama.

The funniest one would probably be Barack Obama, because of the absurd idea that he'd have a random Xanga site, and of course, he'd swear and act like an idiot on it.

But then again, to do the idea for real, I'd have to send out the friend requests, which I don't really care to do. That's too much fuckin' time to spend on a prank that small.

Alright, now leave a comment that says "Lol!"