Posts tagged ‘rose mcgowan’
During Gay Days, Rose McGowan was not only our official mascot, but also the background wallpaper for my phone. I did this on purpose, because every time I was around a gaggle of hot people and felt myself getting insecure, I just asked myself WWRMD?
You may ask yourself: What the fuck are you talking about you stupid, skinty bitch. But the truth is that everyone in the world, no matter how attractive, famous, young, old, or racist they are gets insecure. Rose McGowan was insecure, and look at her now.
Do you remember her back on Charmed? Scream? Grindhouse, or Planet Terror? Rose McGowan used to be fugging stunning. Then, because she was insecure she decided to fuck up her face and blame it on a car accident. Now her face looks like a melting pot of play-doh, meth, and Maybelline #9 busty beige foundation. Do you want Read more…
The Hangover Diaries: Gay Days 2012, Private Foam Parties, Gram Crackaz, And Tranny Blowjobs
The 3 people behind me are talking about how the lesbian in the ballcap got tittyfucked even though her nickname is “A Cup”
Gay Days this year was just too.many.things. In the interest of protecting my group of friends from all the debauchery that we got into, and also because frankly, I don’t remember all of who did what, I will be referring to everyone in an extremely vague way.
The official mascot of Gay Days 2012 (we elect one for every holiday) was Rose McGowan. I will explain that in a post later today.
So we started off the weekend in a torrential downpour (which never surprises me since god always makes it rain on gay holidays) so we ate at Planet Hollywood. When I walked in, drunk, they asked me if I was “wet” but I heard “white” so we started off on a racist note. We got shitfaced on Belvedere and nicknamed ourselves The Gram Crackahs. Then we checked into a fucking amazing super suite with panoramic views, 3 bedrooms, and a jacuzzi tub. A few of us immediately started popping adderral. I threw on the skankiest bathing suit I could find and headed over to the host hotel to hang out with friends. One of us started stockpiling adderrall on the first day. This lead to him/her singing songs by Elton John and/or The Lion King Soundtrack in the living room for hours and a bedroom drawer full of leftover pills (which is surprising since at one point, to rally, he took 7 of them at 9 AM).
At Parliament house before we started running away from the laser beams cause we thought they were gonna mess up our hair.
Several of us got super fucked up and hung out on the balcony until 7 AM, when we went inside and found that another one of us had overflowed (is that proper grammar? It was at the time) the jacuzzi jets in the bathroom. We all immediately jumped into the tub too and had a bubble fight. At one point, JMO swallowed a shit ton of bubbles and had a panic attack. Nadia and I just scoffed and said “Get yo shit togeffer squrl” which I am pretty sure is some version of gay ebonics, and kept drinking.
He lived.
You’re welcome JMO.
Those two strange bands of light on my leg are daylight. Day. Muthafuggin. Light.
Typhoon Lagoon was totally awesome this year. For those of you who don’t know, they open the Typhoon Lagoon water park at night, for a huge circuit party. It is unbelievable. One of us bought tickets for everyone ahead of time so we actually ended up with an extra (which we gave to a random person in line-hoping to buy our way into heaven, or at least off the one way train- track to AIDStown, USA). One of us made out with a super old guy in line who promptly removed all his clothes. In line. To purchase a locker, within which to put his clothes.
Two of us made a game of seeing if we could Read more…
Penny Marshall. A methed out Florida trailer mom. Miss Piggy. An In-and-Out burger and fries (animal-style). A prostitute who has been working so long she gave Jesus a blowie, and her vagina and anus is just one big gaping hole, an FSU sorority girl who can’t seem to pass Organic Chemistry because of how much blow she does, Bridget Jones at a low rent fish and chips shop in an amateur photographer’s basement, one of the faces of meth, a Donatella Versace before picture, Rose Mcgowan, Falcor from Read more…
Celebrity News: Rest In Peace Rose McGowan
‘s face. I guess I could have put that apostrophe in the title, but what would be the fun in that? I have something to say, and I want Lindsay Lohan to pull up a chair, straddle it backwards (pretending its a drug dealer if she has to), settle in with a redbull and a Marlboro Red and listen up:
If you are really pretty- and I mean really pretty there is no fucking reason to fuck with your face. You want a few shots of Botox here and there? Who doesn’t. Some micro-dermabrasion to get rid of a few dark spots? That’s fine too. But don’t get a facelift, over-plump your lips, raise your brow, or fill your cheeks. Lindsay Lohan and Rose Mcgowan are starting to look like the same person, and that person is an anorexic methed out asian chipmunk (or, as we call it in the states, Renee Zellweger).
Back in the day, Rose Mcgowan was a great beauty – but then she not only fucked with her face, but tried to blame it on a car accident in order to garner sympathy. Which isn’t cool because I believe you need to own your shit. Since this post is a memorial of Rose Mcgowan’s old face, I will not post any photos of her new one.
Just kidding. Keep reading to see what the beat old hag looks like now. Read more…
Circumcision: A Diatribe On The Goods And Evils
Being a man of the world, I have experienced my fair share of dicks. I believe that everyone can probably relate to this on some level if you have ever seen more than one–and if you haven’t then please take the Hacidic jew-wig off your head, cut the sleeves off your long sleeved black cotton floor length high waisted Kathy Ireland for Costco dress and get yourself onto Craigslist.
As we all know (And as it was recently pointed out to me by my lovely Jewish Goddess friend) even people who won’t admit it have probably had at least one experience with the snuffalopogos like situation that we call an uncut dick.
Personally, I have no real preference. For a while I was really into the idea of it, since I am circumcized. (I had it done when I was 16. Long story short I did it because my 1st boyfriend had it done and he was scared of my foreskin. Since I was 16 and thought I was going to be with him forever I acquiesced. Do I regret it? No. On lonely nights does it sometimes feel like a part of me is missing–No. It was just a few inches of skin. Fuck it. Guess that was more of a short-story-long). But after seeing a few the novelty has worn off and I don’t really care either way. So my question is: Do you prefer cut or uncut?
In case you need some more information or find yourself confused like a pregnant prom girl with maternal instincts, here are some differences between them. Read more…
