Monday, April 27, 2009

Tyra Banks is the Patron Saint of Crazy Morons

Move over, Oprah! You are no longer the proud, black, queen of daytime TV for ugly, unemployed women (wymen). Tyra Banks is allllllll up in the HIZZZAAAAH and she’s here to sass you up!



…What the fuck?

Are those chicks seriously screaming their heads off for 2 solid minutes…for Vaseline? Dude, its VASELINE. They are going completely ape shit for a masturbatory aid decked out with a bedazzler.



Hey, Tyra! I got a helpful hint. Attack the problem at its source and advocate not pissing on the seat in the first place. Common. This is not hard.



I’m sorry, studio audience plant. The correct answer is “it doesn’t matter what she wears so long as it comes off”. I bet that lady is also wondering if men would rather have a handjob or sex. A real question would be if a man would rather have a handjob or meatball sub.



The idea of Tyra Banks turning a dumb talk show into a half-naked Girls Slumber Party, surprisingly, doesn’t go any further than that. What I mean is, shouldn’t this be more erotic? I am a red-blooded heterosexual man. I should be getting some seriously dirty thoughts right about now, but I’m not. I got in contact with an old, dear friend of mine and asked, hey, what the fuck.

Me: Hey, Penis.

My Penis: Hey, Mark.

Um…what the fuck?

Dude, common. Don’t look at me like that.

Are you sick? If you’re sick we can go to the doctor and get you all fixed up. I mean, I finally bought health insurance-

No, no. I’m not sick. Don’t worry.

Then what the fuck?

Mark, she’s crazy. They’re. All. Batshit. You know how bad that is; you’ve dated crazy before.

Yes, but the only upside is the sex. Common, it’s a trade off. You know how good it is. Don’t be a hypocrite. You enjoyed it just as much, if not more, than I did.

There are two types of crazy. The good kind, which is quirky and fun and the kind of girl you want to take to some remote holler in West Virginia, build a log cabin and grow weed for a living while she does all these creative art projects like junkyard scrap metal sculptures or hillbilly photo essays. You want to marry that girl. Tyra Banks is the bad kind of crazy. She will forget to take her meds and crash her car into your bedroom at 3 in the morning for talking on the phone too long with your sister. I simply refuse to be aroused by such a she-devil.

You know, I may just be your penis, but I also have your, technically “our”, best interest at heart. These are some mature thoughts. I got your back, man.

The sentiment is reciprocal.

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