My fellow sexual deviants, I come to you today because I have been gone for a little while now, and you are all probably wondering where I’ve gone. Well, it seems I have some variety of flu, and seeing as Canada is so ill prepared for an epidemic of the sort, I have not been blogging for fear that what I have is so contagious you can catch it simply by reading what I write.
You see, I did this for you.
Now, I know what you must be thinking…
“Do you still have this terrible plague-like disease preying on her defenseless vegan immune system?”
Well, yes, I do, which is why I am making this short and as quip-free as physically possible for someone of my maturity level in times of crisis.
I came across this article on PopUrls today, about scientists performing a form of sex changes on papayas… I know, I know, “how the hell do you come across this shit?!” I don’t know – but I’m passing it on to you. If you read the article that I’ll link to below, you’ll realise that if, for some reason or another, you’re reading this blog and happen to be afraid of hermaphrodites, well, you’ve eaten one or two in your lifetime.
What is a banana fight, you ask? Well, it’s pretty self explanitory on my end… Jesse and I were in the kitchen earlier tonight, err, when it was still night (I think), and I made the subtle “banana blow job signal” and a fight ensued when she told me, probably unintentionally to banana jizz in her eye. A full on banana fight ensued in my kitchen, and, after said fight, I now cannot move half my face in a societally acceptable way because I have banana residue all over it.
As I’m sure you all know, I’ve been scouring the wonderful world of Fail Blog etc, or Inc., or whatever, for a fair while now, attempting to bring you something that reminds me of the gays. In my line of unpaid, kind of read, work, I come across a lot of poor grammar and spelling (I Can Has Cheezburger is under the Fail Blog umbrella of websites), but nothing bothered me more than this lovely submission-to-be-voted-on for the news page.
Polititians? Really?
Now, I know I predicted the gay apocalypse the other day, but I have a feeling that I may have jinxed something and set the apocalyptic ball in motion. First Elton, now the (continuing) death of spelling.
Here, fellow sexual deviants, is the answer:
(I’m sorry that video was so creepy… I feel like I’ve fallen victim to mind control after watching it, actually… sorry)
As I am already a terrible blogger, I wouldn’t like to add terrible gay to my resume. In an effort to keep in the good gay books, also known as The Advocate, I was reading the first five or so pages of Perez Hilton, only to find out that Elton John has a bad case of E. Coli!
What!?
How is this possible?
All legitimate questions, fellow sexual deviants. Well, I think that it’s a bio-terrorist attack on the gays – put down your Figi, your vitamin water, and corporate lattes – they’re coming for us.
I do think there is salvation, however. As someone who is severely afraid of zombies, I am a self-proclaimed master of post-apocalyptic survival plans. First, if there is a bio-terrorist attack on the gays, we must abandon the corporate coffee giants in favour of kitschy coffee shops (I know we already have one, but we must resist the urge to get a corporate coffee on the way to the kitschy coffee shop, only to ditch it two blocks before you arrive to maintain your “street cred”). If you do not have a kitschy coffee shop, follow the nearest hipster to the coffee shop in question.
When it comes to water, drink tap. Firstly, it’s environmentally friendly. Secondly, no one is going to attack the tap water, assuming that only the gays drink tap. We are in a recession, and an environmental crisis, we’re all drinking tap – no demographic is exempt.
La Roux is one of my new favourite, what are they calling them, shouldbians? Other than that chick from Whip It, of course, I’m not going to say her name because I now only refer to her as my boo. But back to La Roux, she’s hot as fuck – exhibit a)
"Hey baby, can I have your... holy shit, you're La Roux!"
The girl’s not just a looker, and hopefully a muncher (no, I won’t let up… why is the white straight man always trying to bring me down?), but she’s got a great set of pipes. No, pipes is not code for something (but I love that I assume that my readership is full of people as pervy as I, admittedly, am). Her album was out ages ago, so if you haven’t stolen it on the internet yet, you should.
What I’m meaning to tell you, is that her songs are being remixed, mashed up, (slang equivalent of the former two examples here), all over the internet. And I know my readership so well – perverts, just like everyone else enjoy dancing, and impressing their friends.
Well, pick up the phone, and type in mom, or dad, or whomever’s number; it’s time to call home.
Check her out on Hype Machine below, or just scroll up and oggle.
I’m posting so much today, eh? Well, you never know when I’ll disappear into the lesbian-abyss (also known as Sweden?), so I’m going to keep ‘em coming. This post is late, because every lady who’s ever seen a vagina (willingly), and has not settled for the look-don’t-touch childhood mantra has already heard Tegan and Sara’s latest track “Hell,” off Sainthood.
What is Sainthood? They’ll tell you:
But if you haven’t heard it yet, you can listen to it here:
