Archive for the 'Dingleberry' Category

Amy’s turn for a shot in the face?

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Amy’s Mug

Look, I love porn as much, if not more than the next guy. It is the grease which lubricates the Internet these days and keeps it profitable. The popularity of this product has created an interesting dynamic in our culture. People who are desperate for attention can now video tape their private sex acts and sell them to the public for increased exposure. Paris Hilton and Pam Anderson were quite successful at this. On their heels, Kim Kardashian, American Idol reject Olivia Mojica, and now the former “Long Island Lolita” Amy Fisher are getting in on this gravy train.

What follows, is a frank and sometimes graphic account of Amy Fisher’s latest effort. It has been released by the folks responsible for Paris Hilton’s sex tape; Redlight District, and is called “Amy Fisher: Caught on Tape.” I sat through all fifty five minutes of it, so you don’t have to. If you’d like the short and sweet version, here it is: This video made me want to hate sex. It had very little in the way of titillation or sex appeal. I found it sad at times, dull and generally off-putting. It’s possible that this is because I like to find flaws in things. Or maybe it’s because I’m too observant for my own good. The bottom line: It definitely isn’t a product worth paying for.

Now for the gory details: The video depicts an almost constantly naked Amy Fisher along with her older husband Lou. She bathes in bubbles, showers, lounges by her backyard pool and in it. She feigns excitement while letting her man blow his load on her fake boobs. The only genuine orgasms she seems to have are self-inflicted. She is pounded fondled and orally serviced in various positions by a man who suspiciously resembles her old flame, Joey Buttafucco. There is spanking, minor bondage, manual release, toy-assisted penetration, and I’d wager more than a single “little blue pill” involved.

All this might have been more appealing around the time when Amy Fisher was at the height of her infamy. However she’s well past that. She is a mom in her mid thirties now and not even MILF material. In case you don’t remember her story, the spotlight found Amy when she shot her boyfriend’s wife in the face on their doorstep. Mind you, she was sixteen at the time and her boyfriend was an overweight Long Island car mechanic who was thirty five. The US was intrigued with the idea that some shlub was able to charm a teenage girl into banging him regularly. The icing on the cake of this decadent tale was that she was so obsessed with him that she would be willing to commit murder to keep him.

Early in the video, Amy says such things as, “I love tasting my daddy’s cum.” And “I live to suck this cock. This is my little bit of heaven.” These statements had entirely the opposite of their intended effect on me. It was a complete turn-off. This was the point where I wished I hated sex. Perhaps if I had more negative feelings associated with my sexuality, I’d feel comfortable with considering what I was watching as some sort of punishment for Ms. Fisher; having sex with this old dude as a karmic revenge for shooting an innocent woman and sexing up her husband.

That’s not the case though. Amy and Lou are a married couple who presumably love each other. In fact, I think what’s going on in the video is an exercise in ego stroking. The two participants are constantly trying to flatter each other. Amy talks about how large her man’s unit is, when in fact it is average at best. Lou keeps saying how beautiful Amy is, ignoring her over-plucked eyebrows, implant scars, in-grown pubes, and highly teased Long Island hairdo. It’s obvious the couple is very vain. There are mirrors everywhere in their bedroom. Even Amy’s dildo is reflective! At several points during the action, you can see both lovers looking off into the mirror or monitor and preening themselves.

Amy actually looks into the camera while straddling Lou and says, “I always wanted to be a porn star.” She asks him if he’ll teach her how and he agrees. This is contrary to being ‘taken seriously as a journalist,’ which is the desire she expressed to Oprah a few years ago, but she may have a future in this field. The girl’s got a fairly appealing body, she just needs to work on the acting a bit. She’s even got that porn star move down where she covers her belly with one hand under the guise of touching herself, when she’s really hiding an unsightly paunch.

Perhaps I’m looking too closely, but it’s hard to not read into things when you’re watching a woman who’s had several TV movies made from her life story. When Amy says, “Wanna spank me a little bit? I feel like I’ve been a bad girl.” I can’t help but think she’s referring to her past crimes. When her husband teases Amy and asks, “Have you been a good girl?” She doesn’t answer.

The only other time she doesn’t answer Lou in this video is when he asks, “This pussy was created for me, wasn’t it?” The silence is deafening. It makes me almost feel that the video’s target audience might be a certain Long Island mechanic; a sort of passive-aggressive final shot which says, “Look what I’m doing with this dude who looks like you but isn’t you.” In the brief scene where Lou blindfolds Amy, I can’t help considering that she might just be imagining Joey in his place.

I imagine that Lou might be more like Joey than Amy realizes. At one point, he starts saying, “You’ve got the body of like a 17 year-o..” and the scene abruptly fades mid-word. The admiration in his eyes when he’s penetrating Amy is evident. Is he thinking, “My wife’s a hottie!” or is banging the “Long Island Lolita” what’s secretly getting him off? It’s impossible for me to tell.

What is clear is that Amy isn’t all that happy. She seems bored in most of the sexual scenarios where she’s not pleasuring herself. The exaggerated acting isn’t believable at all. The dirty talk seems forced. Then, at around 47:30 in, you can see a sort of distant look cross her face. For a few moments she appears to be thinking, “What the hell am I doing?”

I know what she hasn’t done. She hasn’t succeeded at making an interesting home movie of her sex life. Had she been just another anonymous amateur pornographer, this video would be completely ignored by the adult film industry and its customers. I’m glad I didn’t pay for the video and I would urge anyone else to avoid doing so as well.

Joey and Amy should have faded into obscurity long ago. Instead, they’ve shamelessly milked every bit of media attention from a tragic situation that they possibly could. They’ve tried to sell books, reunion specials, reality shows, and now porn to keep themselves in the public eye and for profit. I know that I’ve paid Amy way too much attention by simply writing about her here. As I say though, I watched the video so you wouldn’t have to. I don’t even want to keep it. Remind me next time we go out drinking and I’ll hand it over to you.

-King 0f New York

Jerry’s Angels

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Springer

Jerry Springer has already kicked off his seventeenth season in syndicated television and is nowhere near running out of losers for us to ogle at. It really is amazing, and a bit sad, that there are so many people in this country willing to humiliate themselves and air their dirty laundry in public for a few minutes of fleeting celebrity. Even more amazing, is that people are still watching after all these years. Ratings during the day are still pretty good. Still more amazing, Jerry’s making money with Pay-Per-View specials where the action is uncensored. People are actually willing to pay for his shows on DVD as well.

So what’s Springer doing to keep things fresh for so long? Well, there are some basics that never change. People will continue to tune in as long as there is sex and violence. When girls rip each other’s shirts off over some dirt-bag, it gets viewers. When some sort of mutant shows up, people are tuning in. However, it seems like Jerry is catering more to certain fetishes these days. Extremely fat folks, midgets, and sloshing are now featured more often. In case you’re behind the times, “sloshing” refers to getting messy with food or other stuff in a sexual manner.

Also new on the Springer Show this season, are three off-duty female police officers. Mimi Madrigal, Katie Darwin and Mari Flores are trying to fill the massive void which Steve Wilkos left when he got his own show. The security force is certainly a lot nicer to look at. However, I question their effectiveness when two street brawlers start throwing fists on the Springer stage. I guess time will tell whether they have what it takes to do the job.

I’m just hoping that they call me soon. I’ve been anxious to get on television and come clean about my secret crush on Angelina Jolie. Hopefully, they’ll let me and Brad Pitt punch each other a little bit about it before they break us up. I know he could probably kick my ass (I watched “Fight Club” after all) but I know I’d get a few good shots in. Maybe if the lady cops were breaking us up, we could pull their shirts off in the process. Then Angie could jump in and get her clothes ripped off too.

Maybe then they could all give me lap dances…and get oiled up…and…excuse me a minute…

-King 0f New York

Bad Ass Movie Trailer

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Alvin, Simon, TheodoreAlvin, Simon, Theodore

Look, I’m a pretty open-minded guy. If you want to dress up rodents and play “Boy Band” with them in the privacy of your own home, it’s fine by me. I’m not saying that I advocate animal abuse. I’m saying that, as a dominant species, we are certainly allowed to take some liberties with lesser creatures. Everyone knows that chickens are okay for eating, horses are okay for riding and gerbels are okay for anal pleasure if you’re a celebrity. Even I must draw the line though, at making cute little creatures eat shit for our amusement.

Fox studios have released a trailer for their upcoming children’s movie, entitled “Alvin and the Chipmunks” today. You can go have a look at it if you like, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Instead, let me give you a synopsis: The trailer features a disembodied voice describing some musical group which is not singing vermin. The visuals are mostly stock footage of concerts and cheering fans. The last twenty seconds or so show you computer generated rodents in t-shirts and Jason Lee. One of the critters picks up a clump of crap, freshly excreted by his fuzzy compatriot and pops it into his mouth without hesitation. Jason Lee shrugs off yet another poor career choice and walks off screen. The furry varmint with a mouthful of shit spits it out. That’s the trailer.

This movie promises to introduce your child to fecal feats of frivolity in the most family-friendly way possible. If that isn’t a selling point to bring up to the missus, I don’t know what is. I mean, think of the road you’d be paving for your progeny! Never again will they be hesitant about engaging in scat-play or any ass-related hijinx. Dookie will cease to be taboo. After seeing that even a rodent can achieve fame and fortune despite their penchant for munching on turds, a person becomes liberated. They can walk down the dirtiest of streets without any concern for what they may tread in.

It’s true that the human mouth is more dirty and germ-ridden than most any other part of our anatomy. So once you come to terms with that, and the taste of ass, there’s really not much more to be grossed out by, is there? We can live fearlessly, putting our shit-shame behind us once and for all.

Like I said at the outset, I’m against animals consuming feces to give us a laugh. So the trailer strikes a sour chord with me. However, it might be possible that I’m misreading it. Perhaps the inclusion of crap in their first trailer for “Alvin and the Chipmunks” is some new “honesty in advertising” directive by Fox. Maybe we as the potential viewing audience are supposed to infer that, if the movie trailer blatantly displays shit, we should expect more of the same from the rest of the film.

-King 0f New York

It snot funny!

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Snot Pockets

 

On the subway this morning, I was witness to something so gut-wrenchingly nasty that I had to turn and look away. In fact I offer you, the reader, a warning: If you’re eating something, especially your own boogers, please stop before continuing to read this post. As a frequent customer of New York City’s Metro Transit Authority I’ve seen some harsh human interaction, but nothing could prepare me for what went down today. It happened just two feet away from me.

My ride on the number 2 train started out ordinary enough. A mostly full train pulled into the crowded transportation hub in Brooklyn known as “Atlantic Avenue Station.” A number of riders decided to wait until a mass of people were pushing into the car to announce that they were getting off. After a bit of scuffling and harsh looks, those getting off were gone and the ones getting on were packed in tighter than the Olson Twins trust fund.

As luck would have it, I found myself standing elbow to elbow with a scraggly looking twenty-something guy. He was reading a paperback, generally oblivious to his surroundings. I paid him no mind.

My usual routine on the train is glancing around to see if some unsuspecting lady is showing too much cleavage. If I find one, I ogle at her hoping to spy a slight jiggle from the train movement or a brief flash of nip. It’s a healthy way for me to start the morning and get my juices flowing without ingesting large amounts of caffeine and anti-histamines…but I digress.

As I gazed around the car, the fellow next to me made a quick sniffing sound without looking away from his book. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move through the air like a determined mosquito and land on the arm of a woman sitting at crotch level in front of the book dude.

The lady saw it too. She glanced down at her jacket and pulled off what had landed on it. Only after rubbing it between her fingers, did the poor woman realize she was fiddling with a stranger’s snot-rocket. It was a full-on, slimy raisin-sized booger delivered by an apathetic stranger.

 

The dread in her eyes when she looked up from her discovery was too much for me. I turned away, not wanting to add shame to the woman’s disgust. When you are the unwilling recipient of a stranger’s secretions in public, the last thing you want is a large audience. Multiple “worst case scenarios” quickly flashed through my mind. I half expected the woman to be sick; vomiting up her Chai Latte and bagel with cream cheese. It would have caused a massive chain reaction in such tight, poorly ventilated quarters. The scene from “Stand By Me” flashed through my mind as a reminder of just how bad it could be. My body braced for a possible fight when rage replaced disgust in the lady’s mind.

Fortunately, none of that happened. I didn’t even hear the soiled woman’s voice. She must have pantomimed her disapproval to the man who had sullied her because I heard him quietly say, “Sorry!” with a tone that suggested she was making too big a deal about nothing. It was a true dick-head move.

I felt badly for the women. It was obvious she didn’t know what to do with herself. At first she dug around for solace in her pocket book. When she found a small portable tissue package, she became quietly manic. Compulsively scrubbing a tissue on the arm of her coat, the outline of her eyes reddened as if she were holding back tears. It seemed like every little spot she detected became another hunk of half-dried snot. Like a mescaline junkie, she did her best to scrub away the demons that weren’t there, both on her purse and her clothing. Images of the shower scene in “The Crying Game” crept into my head as the theme song echoed in my ears. The woman was fouled and clearly not taking it well, as the perpetrator of the offense stood defiantly before her, blissfully unaware of her pain.

I wanted to reach out to the lady. In my heart, I felt she needed comforting. Things were going to be alright and she was going to get through this. I wanted to be the voice of reason and let her know these things; to let her know that I understand her discomfort. I was hoping to put my hand on her shoulder and tell her that some good would come of this; that she would be the subject of my next blog and possibly a new t-shirt some day. Unfortunately, she was permanently tainted now. Physical contact was completely out of the question.

-King 0f New York

Anecdote Etiquette

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Raise Hand

Raise your hand if you have an interesting story to tell. Go on…I’ll wait…okay, now put your hand down before someone sees you. You’re embarrassing me! Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that we all have stuff to share. Everyone has had a scary experience, depressing time, gross accident, or brush with celebrity. Some of these may even make for an interesting story. That doesn’t justify playing “I can top that!” when someone shares one.

I notice it happens more when people are drunk. Someone will share a funny anecdote about a brush with death and suddenly some cock-snot has to chime in with, “You think THAT’S bad? Let me tell you about the time I drank sour milk while watching ‘Eddie Murphy: RAW’ and laughed at the same time. The chunky, foul-smelling white junk shot out of my nose and all over my shirt. It was like my face had an orgasm and gave my bear belly a facial. HAHA HOO HAHA!” Sure, your story might be amusing or even revolting beyond belief, but why not wait for your turn to share it? Don’t try to segue into your story from someone else’s punch line.  It’s rude to ride the good feeling generated by someone else’s interesting tale or story-telling skills. It’s like letting your wingman do all the foreplay only to torpedo the pink whale eye yourself.

A Whale Eye

Sometimes your story just isn’t that great. Sometimes you don’t know how to tell a story. So when you try to share how a drunk Debbie Gibson once gave you head in the back of a club in the early 90’s, you wind up dwelling too much on what music was playing or how many drinks you had. The point is that you shouldn’t chance associating your stuff with the other stuff which just impressed the group who are your audience. You’ll never see a comedian come up on stage and riff on a joke the person before them told. It’s considered bad form. If you do though, you know you’re watching the hackettiest of the hacks up there and that might be another story for you to tell in the future.

If you can’t help but be a big mouth and must blurt something out when someone besides you is getting attention, just follow a few simple guidelines: The first thing out of your mouth should be a reaction to what you just heard. Laughing or groaning when appropriate will work, as will a comment like, “Nice one!” After that, take a sip of your drink, pass the bong, slap a stranger on the ass; do something. It doesn’t matter what, just take some sort of non-story related action. If you want to be cool, buy the guy or gal who just told a good one, their next drink. Only THEN should you bring up the time you accidentally spray-painted your junk and couldn’t get any for three months because people thought you had Ebola.

Part of being a good story-teller is also being a good listener. Know when to shut your trap and people will feel more comfortable in sharing their most embarrassing or intimate moments with you. Then you can do what I do and post those stories in a blog for everyone to read later.  That’s just a bit of friendly advice from me to you.

-King 0f New York

Bad Judgement

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You know what’s fun for me? Assuming video games, porno and booze aren’t available; finding fault.  Yup, I judge stuff so often and so harshly, I’d be called “The Hangin’ Judge” if I had a fancy robe and larger penis. Fortunately, a nickname isn’t necessary to have a negative opinion about anything and everything. So that’s what I do to pass the time between pointless pastimes.

Hate is the new apathy

A wiser man might call this pessimism, but what the fuck does that wrinkle-faced, book lover know anyway? I prefer to think of my uncanny knack of finding something wrong as optimism by process of elimination. In other words, I examine the noun in question and determine whether it is good or not by looking for what might be bad about it.

If you find yourself in a public place, give it a try and watch how quickly you get into it. The time will just fly and your bitterness will grow exponentially. Not sure how to start? Let me give you a scenario from memory.

In a not so recent visit to my doctor’s office to address high blood pressure and other stress -related maladies, I had some time to judge people and things while in the waiting room. My thought process went a little something like this:

Man, how do they expect people to sign in here with such a crappy pen? The chain’s way to short for me to properly swish the “A” in my name. Whatever! I don’t see who came up with this signing in procedure anyway. What the hell are receptionists for if not to sign you in? Now if only I can find a seat in this place that isn’t next to a smelly person carrying a highly contagious disease, I’ll be alright. You’d think a room where people sit and wait would have more comfortable chairs than these.  And with all these sick people around, shouldn’t there be some sort of defense against infection? No, that makes too much sense for this place. We’re all on our own out here. Look, even the fish in the fish tank look ill. One of them looks a day or two away from the ol’ burial at sea (flush flush). It looks like they don’t clean in there either. Christ! I’m entrusting my health in people who can’t keep a goldfish healthy? What the hell’s wrong with me? I’m probably the only sane one in here. I know with certainty that whoever set the television to Jerry Springer wasn’t playing with a full deck. Which one of them was it? I bet that fat one did it. She looks like she sits around watching daytime TV a bit too often. I hope the doctor gives her a free referral for a good health plan soon. Heart disease is a bitch, girlfriend! Oh and speaking of bitch, I bet that brunette right there would love to change the channel and put on some soap opera. Yeah, you love the drama, don’t you? The way she sucks her teeth at people all day, you’d think they’d be a bit cleaner. What the hell is taking so long for them to call me in anyway? I was here for my appointment on time, wasn’t I? Not that the traffic around this area made it easy for me. Shit, the traffic wasn’t even that bad compared to the parking. I wouldn’t even have a spot if I hadn’t beat the hell out of that Bronco’s bumper pulling in. Fuck him! He deserves it for driving such a gas guzzler. People with sports cars are such assholes. Why don’t they ever get sick and have to be in a place like this the whole day wasting their time? Oh great, another tampon commercial on the TV! That’s what we need…because women wouldn’t know that they needed to plug their bleeding orifice once a month without an hourly reminder during every program men watch.

See, it’s easy! Criticizing everyone and everything that comes to mind is cheap entertainment. With a little practice, you too can methodically fill yourself with venom until your hatred festers into a full-blown medical condition. Perhaps an aneurism! No one but your doctor will know just how bitter you are until you finally climb that clock tower with your only true friend: the high-powered rifle with sniper scope.

-King 0f New York

Spicy Donut Eat a Spicy D!

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Do you ever feel special?…. Down there? I know I do! but its nothing to be ashamed about. In fact It’s totally normal and perfectly healthy. Touch it… Go on… give it a little squeeze. Doesn’t that feel nice?
Hi Kids! I’m Spicy Donut and if your holding your special FLCL limited edition red variant 12″figure in your lap then you probably went to comic con like me this year. If your holding something else, might i suggest the moose video to help finish things up… ahem… i’ll wait.

(my first blog and what do I do…remind people they can go to other places on the net and masturbate to girls… and mooses… meese? moosei? that’ll get the hits coming.)
Welcome back… heres a 20, clean yourself off.

So imagine if you will a giant hall filled with the cream of the sweaty nerd crop. Im talking…
Overlay self important nerd who talks to loud.
Super otaku nerd fun fun happy good time.
Quiet ugly as fuck nerd surrounded by a harem of gorgeous women.
Gonna make it in the biz nerd who brought his portfolio to the con even though its the size of a fucking billboard and hits every fucking person that passes by.
The star trek/wars nerds…of which there are many and they all hate each other. which is just great.
The oddly still rampant ghostbusters nerds (whats with that?)
this list could go on for pages…
Which one am I? Sarcastic smartass nerd who is actually probably nerdier than the rest of them but like to think he’s better than everyone else…the prick.

One of the best things about Comic Con is that people dress up… and some of them are serious about it. and i think thats the bee’s knees… because there’s nothing funnier than a guy dressed in a full matrix neo outfit eating an overly priced hotdog next to the hentai booth.

He needed his brothers to protect him from the beatings…

the name tag makes this guy all the more menacing…

thats just hot… i dont care what you people think… i got the yellow fever baby.

It was ICE of these guys to drop by haha…*the tears start now.

my dream car… someday…someday… but it has to have fully functioning saw blades or its no deal!

The costumes arent all bad… nerd love >_<
The Con last 4 days and its a whirlwind of celebrity guest stars, movie premieres. free flyers and buttons and stickers and crap (i came back with a whole suitcase filled with promo items… they’re probably good for kindling or something.) I mean who knows when you might need to burn a flyer promoting the release of farscape season 7 disc 58.

The geekdom is there and present in all sides of the con but there are actually many amazing artists and you can just walk right up to most of them and they’ll sign and sketch for you. I was lucky enough to meet Joe Ledbetter, Toki Doki, Chris Sanders ,Frank Kozik , Mike Mignola , Jim Mahfood …this list goes on too. I’m an art nerd…so i have to geekout a bit.

I’m trying to call magic butter out there for next years con so we can have crazy drunken comic con fun… also.. how funny would it be to see the moose running around humping stormtroopers and smelling like way too much whiskey :)
to the sweaty masses! vive la moose!

Goldieloxxx Someone do the God Damn dishes!

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I woke up this morning and the mother effin sink was full of cotton pickin dishes. Now I know I’m not the only son of a cracker ass honky in this house who uses dishware. Effective noon tomorrow, I will resign as dishwasher of this house. I know a lot of you will miss me, but it has to be done.

P.S

I need to get laid. Now I know some of you are interested in men, some of you women. I am so sick and tired of all of that! I need to get with something real, something that’s really going to turn me inside out. That’s right Moose. Today I am going to have sexual relations with a moose. Don’t believe me? I’ll video tape the whole thing and show your asses tomorrow!!!!!! What’s up now?!?

Goldieloxxx Britney Spears, I love you…

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God Damn it Britney. I love you so much. At first I was really let down by your performance at the VMAs last night, but now i have to say - I Love You. You’ve shown your vagina a record 3 times, shaved your head, boned half of hollywood, went topless with some random dudes and let people take pictures, got shitty for three days and rocked your beer belly in front of the entire world… If I could be anyone but me, I’d be you and i know you would be me too. You didn’t win any awards last night, but the first Magicbutter, “I don’t give a fuck award,” that goes to you baby. And now I declare you our -

Sweet Cheeks Sweet Cheeks

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So yesterday, I tried hula hooping after
about ten years of kicking the thing. It was so foreign at first,
but I’ll tell you right now, hula hooping is like riding a bike… you just
try it and then do it. I also realize how sexual the whole hula
hooping act is. It was actually quite disturbing. Here I am, after
ten years with a countless number of men under my belt, hula
hooping with a bunch of children who don’t understand the sexual
movement your hips are gyrating in. I felt like a bit of a molester
to tell you the truth. I also got a moist crotch….. I’ve got to
go. Till next time! Sweet Cheex out!





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