Posts tagged ‘patti stanger’
Three Ways To Spend Valentines Day Alone
1. Go fuck yourself. Literally. Today, while you are out purchase 2 bottles of red wine and a Mama June sized box of chocolates. When you go home tonight, sit in front of your mirror, drink the red wine (so you start crying immediately), eat the chocolates, right the name of your crush on your index finger, and shove it in your b-hole repeatedly while self-flagellating. That way, tomorrow when people asked what you did, you can say you had a nice dinner, drank your tits off, and got finger-banged so hard you burped up a press-on nail.
2.Watch a marathon of the Millionaire Matchmaker. If Patti Stanger’s coked out, anorexic, sunburnt puffer face doesn’t make you glad to be single, nothing will.
3. Be a whore. Go out by yourself to the sleaziest bar you can find. If you are gay, that means the Cock in the East Village. If you are straight, that means any bar that doesn’t have a dress code. Sit alone in a slutty outfit and get so shitfaced that it doesn’t matter who hits on you. Go home with the first person who talks to you, even if its the janitor. If you do this, you can guarantee you won’t be alone next Valentines day.
You will have Herpes to keep you company.
You’re welcome.
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Bryce Gruber Stink Face Chronicles: Tanning Booths
Again we return to the BGSF Chronicles–wherein we dissect and explain the eloquent phrases of Ms. Bryce Gruber herself. Here is an explanation of what she meant when she said : “If you visit a tanning booth ever, please don’t talk to me.”
First off, if you visit a tanning booth ever, the following things are most likely apparent:
You are originally from Florida or New Jersey. In College you smoked Marlboro lights. In high school you drove a Jetta. You smell like coconut oil. You have a “dolphin circle” tattoo somewhere on your body. You have worn a tube top more than once. If you are a guy you have at least one photo on your Facebook of you flexing into a mirror and you most likely have those “almost pecs-and would be if there wasn’t just one little pooch of fat directly under the nipple”. If you are a girl, Read more…
An Open Message To Patti Stanger
I think this message pretty much speaks for itself. But in case you would like me to speak for it, we here at Gloganvlog disapprove of any woman that wears super straight shiny yaki on her head, has wrinkled sunspots gathered around her cocaine-filled eyes like training bras at a Bieber concert, and those damned jewel tone dresses. But most of all, because she made our dear friend Bryce Gruber look like an uptight bitch on TV.
Introducing The Bryce Gruber Stinkface Chronicles: Ed Hardy
As many of you may know, Bryce Gruber is a true friend to Gloganvlog. Why? Because she is awesome and doesn’t sweat the small shit. If you have seen her portrayal on the Millionaire Matchmaker though–you may have an entirely different viewpoint on her. Say whatever you will about her–but she has a point.
Because if you are wearing Ed Hardy then several things are clearly apparent:
You are from New Jersey. You have been called a douche bag before. Your car has a steering wheel cover, and most likely a car seat in the back. You own a beer bong that has a bumper sticker on the funnel that reads: Drink till she’s no longer your cousin, you probably had a belly button or eyebrow ring, there is most likely a tribal tattoo on your body–at the shoulder if you are a guy and at the tramp stamp no-zone if you are a lady. If you are in fact a lady, at one point you had two tone color extensions and your thong doesn’t match your bra. If you are a guy, go clean under your nails, please. Read more…
I know what you want to say: This isn’t Florida, Gary.
I get that New York isn’t Florida. But I still am. And as long as I still have perky tits and weigh less than 100 lbs sopping wet I will wear a wifebeater whenever I want, do you hear me Oprah on the Color Purple?
So we started out the night late at my friend Mason’s house. He spent the entire pregame trying coyly to get his twink boyfriend to have a threesome with the twink friend they had invited over. I kept trying to sit as close as possible to the twinks, hoping some of their stem cells would rub off and get into my eyes.
Then I found out one of the twinks was a virgin. For future reference–nobody ever tell me that again. I will make it my personal mission that you get plowed. Read more…
