Showing posts with label Please Stop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Please Stop. Show all posts

Monday, March 28, 2016

Leave Me Be, Instagram Celebrities: These Are The Only Things Want Notifications About




Everyone is losing their GD collective minds today on Instagram.

Apparently, one of the best apps to spy on c-list celebrity vacations is changing its algorithm tomorrow, showing whatever the shit it thinks will be most important to you first, instead of chronological postings. Or something. I can't really be bothered to research the details, but this has prompted an ONSLAUGHT OF FOOLISHNESS.


A photo posted by Ashley Tisdale (@ashleytisdale) on


Every human on earth now wants you to turn on notifications for their boring-ass Instagram postings. Or else you might find yourself caught unawares of what is happening in Lori Loughlin's life. Can you imagine? Prepare for your world to be in actual shambles. So please make sure that you co-sign on getting constant popups on your phone, or you'll never know that Ian Ziering had some sliced grapefruit for breakfast.

As for me, I want to have exactly zero notifications about anything in life. Unless any of the following things happen:




Melissa Joan Hart stars in a Lifetime movie wherein she rides a mini horse.






Swan's Crossing comes back on.** 




Jon Hamm inquires over my whereabouts because he wants to take me to Applebee's.




Shannen Doherty has a yard sale and is selling some prototypes of Brenda Walsh Collection Clip-On Bangs™.




There's a baby koala on my doorstep and he doesn't have a key to get in.




The wine store goes out of business and is like, "Hold on to your butts, here's a ton of free wine."




Any and all news relating to Mother May I Sleep with Danger? 

If it's none of the above, leave me the hell alone and I'll see your picture of clouds that look like a kitten when I see it.



**I challenge you to find a lower quality video on the internet.








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Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Miley Cyrus' New Music Video Is Grossing Me The Eff Out



Miley, what's good? Not this.

I don't even really HATE hate the song -- I can deal-ish with it. What I can't handle is the actual visuals of the video, where Destiny Hope Cyrus dumps a bunch of different shit all over her face and then spits it out. Sometimes it's in slo-mo, sometimes it reversed, but it's gross all the ways.

I don't want to see your tonsils, homie. With or without milk coating them.

 
And is glitter even safe to have all up in your mouth like that? I can't think about it anymore. I'm getting nauseated and I need a major palate cleanser.




Okay, that should be sufficient. Sweet dreams.




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Thursday, August 13, 2015

GUUUUUURL of the Day: Your New Workout Jam



WARNING: I'm pretty sure one of these dudes says the f-word a couple of times, but who can really tell in this life. Just maybe don't play this in the ball pit at McDonald's. Or maybe do. I don't really care.

The name of this song is "GYM" in Papyrus font, for starters. And, actually, this whole song and video are like the Papyrus font personified, so it's really quite fitting. If there is something for adults akin to a Girl Scout badge, I really think that I deserve one for making it through the song.

I really have a lot of questions here.

Do you believe this guy's guns are as hard as lead by using his home gym thingy next to the radiator? Did he say "pumping it till it aches?" Did he also say "I GO GYM ON THE REGS?" Around the 1:00 mark, is there another song playing? Do you like to stay "busting weights with your mates?" Don't answer that, because it's obviously a yes. What's a "pro-in" shake? Why is the glass shaped like that? Are all glasses in Europe shaped in such a way? Was he really running that fast? It seemed more speed walk-y to me, but maybe I'm a bad judge of speed. Where did that third guy come from? What's on that piece of copy paper taped to the wall with packing tape? Did the surprise dude say his muscles are "kind of coned?"


At this point in the video, I started to travel to an alternate universe where this video didn't even exist, and shitty workout equipment had never been invented, so I don't really know what happened after that.

I'm never playing another YouTube video again.









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Monday, June 29, 2015

GUUUUUURL(s) Of The Day: Brendan Fraser And Martha Stewart Went Horseback Riding



In "Okay." news of the day, Martha Stewart shared with our pleb-y eyes that she and throwback dream dude Brendan Fraser went horseback riding together on horses with hair that's way more fancy than ours. Sounds...fun? Let's see what Brendan's horse thinks about this hodgepodge hangout.


I'm reading this as: luxurious and hating it.

We also gleaned from Martha's weirdly punctuated post that BF has a new show on the History Channel called "Texas rising," but probably "Texas Rising." Because I'm a professional (DON'T), I researched this show, and here is what B-boy's character looks like.


Uhhhh...What?


GUUUUUURL.


story via buzzfeed



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Monday, November 10, 2014

If You Can't Get Too Many Cooks Out Of Your Head, Here's Your Antidote



This is such a friggin' confusing piece of fine art. These British (???) people seem to have only heard of three fast food places. Nary a Taco Bell in Europe, I guess.

And they're talking about sex times, yet the dancing dog with the Jem makeup makes me think that your latest ringtone is for children. But the ass-slapping while singing about sauce and the "I'm coming back for more...HOTDOG!" makes me hope this is really not for juveniles. And I don't even want to know what "let's eat to the beat" means.


I just need to know which life-size My Buddy Special S&M Edition™dolls these three yanked those outfits from. I need to see everyone's receipts.

P.S. If you clicked there to buy the album, I can't talk to you anymore.

P.P.S. If you would now like to reinstall Too Many Cooks back into your brain after this hot mess express, you can watch my jankety remake here.

P.P.P.S. If you don't even know what the hell I'm talking about, get on everyone's level.


via reddit


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Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Jennifer Love Hewitt Sent Matt Damon A Bed, Reached A Solid 8.5 On The Creeper Scale



I haven't been shy about my feelings re: JLH being a super-kook. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovable brand of kook. It's not like homie is hiding in the backseat of gas station patron's cars with a hook on her hand, or anything. (Is that the plot from I Know What You Did Last Summer?) She's not that flavor of kook.

Side note -- can some decision maker-type from VH1 make Flavor of Kook into a Flava Flav franchise? I would 100% watch whatever the shit that show would be about.

Anyway, back to J Love's weird ways. The world's most beautiful creep was a guest on Jimmy Kimmel a couple days ago, and she shared a pretty Creepy McCreepsalot story about sending a bed (bed topper? it's unclear to me, due to my lack of fancy) to a lonely Matt Damon as a creepy salve to his sad heart.

First off, this was over ten years ago, so Matt Damon was in his prime sexy-ass days. Dude was most likely drowning in the women's bathing suit area parts. Like, all of the parts.


He probably didn't have a bed because he broke them all doing sex with people, Love.  I wouldn't worry.

Also, maybe save all of that Party of Five money. Scott Wolf might need an air mattress one day, or something.

Also (part II), please stop sending shit to other famouses that you don't know. It's unusual at best. Matt Damon probably thought the bed thingy was stuffed with a mixture of both of your hair clippings that you stole from his barber's dumpster and mixed together in your basement, like a weirdo hair Heisenberg. It's too much.

P.S. Scott Wolf is still pretty damn hot, in a Michael J. Fox's cousin type of way.



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Friday, September 26, 2014

Watch This To Learn How To Make Sexy Eye Contact With People (JK, How To Look Like An Extreme Creep)



Here's how to pick up a nice young lady at the grocery store, according to this dude:

Step one: Stand in the makeup aisle, like any broseph is wont to do. (Bonus points for double embellished shirt status.)
Step two: This.


Step three: Talk, therefore closing the ol' pickup dealio. (He looks like he says "dealio.")
Step four: Get shanked with a mascara wand. Probably your weirdo eye.

Annnnnnd scene.

If any guy has happened upon this blog, I'm sure you were innocently googling something like "big ass porn," (it happens a lot). But while you're here, just head this warning: PLEASE NEVER, EVER (never, ever? never, ever.) DO THIS SHIT.

There's only one exception.

 
Okay, two exceptions.


If your name is Rick, and you're eyeball pervin' to try to telepathically tell me to get more hams and direct me promptly toward the oversized Hershey's Chocolate Bar for bonus points, peep creep away. Peep creep away, Rick. All soul windows on deck.



via reddit


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Wednesday, July 16, 2014

List Of Things I Can't Deal With Today: Paris Hilton's New Video For "Come Alive." End Of List.



Listen, P. We're pretty much in our mid-thirties, you and I. You are still very pretty and gamine and all of that jazz, but the floating-on-cotton-candy-while-coyly-spouting-sexual-innuendo-in-an-autotuned-baby-voice ship has sailed. Like, a solid ten years ago. It's time to move on from the Princess Baby strokes a unicorn pastures. And that's okay.

We're now the "gross old people" in the club. That's why I don't go to them anymore. (That, and rap music is not danceable anymore. I miss "In the Club" in the club. Or shaking it like a Polaroid picture.) Remember how much you made fun of those people?** That's us now. So stop trying to make club bangers happen.


Maybe it's time to take up something a tad bit more mature and less like what would come up if you googled, "what would a Lisa Frank porn set look like?" It's cool to let it go, Paris. It's not so bad. Remember how gross the early aughts were anyway? It was all dangly Playboy Bunny bellybutton rings and pointy-toed two-inch heels. You don't want to keep reliving that bullshit.

So let's take out those colored contacts and go get some tea. And maybe go to a bookstore, or something. It's time.



**The first time I went to a bar or club after graduating from college and moving to a non-college town, I literally said, "Why are all of these old people here? Gross."


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Monday, April 14, 2014

Okay, Okay, One More Coachella Related Post. IT'S ABOUT BIEBER.

via buzzfeed
I didn't really want to be all,"COACHELLA, COACHELLA, COACHELLA," today. But when Buzzfeed posted this picture of JB, it could not be ignored. When I see something that gives me the WHAT THE MF-ING EFF? feelings as much as this does, I really can't just let it go. (If you make a Frozen reference right now, I will eyeball slap you.)

Seriously, this bitch has got to be kidding me right now. He's wearing a chain that every dude I knew in high school bought from a kiosk in the middle of the mall. With an oversized bucket hat. But the real clincher are those shorts (???). Those pieces of shit look like something that that guy with the 132 lb ball would be forced to wear. (RIP, sir.)

via realitytvgifs
Biebs is seriously sending me to a (slightly) early retirement home facility with his nonsense. Send me lots of Werther's and hand-made doilies, mofos.



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Monday, March 17, 2014

Teen Mom's Farrah Abraham Has A New Music Video Called "Blowin," And It's About Breezes, Or Something, YOU SICK EFFS.



I'm going to be honest. I have zero friggin' clues what this song is even about. I can really only make out the following things: cele-bruh-dee, friend requestin', stars, and getting air. Wait, is this a fan fiction about White Men Can't Jump? P.S. You can't name your song "Blowin" if you've done porn stuffs. It's an unwritten rule in humanity.


I love when this low-rent shit says, "Official Video," like Meryl Streep made an unofficial video, and Farrah doesn't want anyone to be confused. Also, why is your child in this video? The rest of it is drinking with alleged "fans" and writhing about next to a barn prison door, so I don't really see a need to bring children of the world into this mess. But let's not forget the best part:


Dancing in her twitter avatar box thingy! Homegirl, you are not Alice from The Brady Bunch.


I've had about enough.



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