Is ENORMOUS WEIGHT LOSS a side effect of face lifts? Because holy crap, Barry is wasting away. Enough to make young girls cry even.
Archive Page 3 of 161
Megan Fox, who may or may not have recently broken up with Brian Austin Green from 90210, is beautiful, to be sure, but kinda dumb. She was interviewed recently about her new in-production movie called ”Whore” and during the interview said, “I would love to do a movie naked – it would be beautiful. No one dares make that kind of film today.”
Um…yes, they do, Megan. It’s called porn. You may want to check into that.
Seriously. What does this even mean? If she’d like to do a standard run-of-the-mill nude scene, I’m sure that shouldn’t be too difficult, particularly if she’s in movies called, oh, I don’t know…WHORE, for example. And if she wants to do an entire movie in the nude, I’m going to take a stab in the dark and guess that there would be lots of filmmakers ready to assist her in this endeavor.
You know what would totally suck? Going swimming in China. LOOK AT THIS. I could never do this in a billion skillion years - because I would completely have a claustrophobic MELTDOWN if surrounded by this many people. In water, no less. It makes me oogey just to look at this photo.
Ok. Aside from Claire’s obvious malnutrition issues. If you had virtually no boobs to speak of, is this REALLY the bikini top you’re going to choose? I’m asking all of the girls out there. I mean, I’m not saying Claire should go out and get a boob job, because there is nothing wrong with having self-esteem about your booblessness. I’m simply saying that she might want to consider wearing something that doesn’t ACCENTUATE her complete and utter lack of boobage. That’s all.
So have I told you guys lately how great Mr. Mock is? Because HE IS GREAT. Let me just give you a perfect example of his greatness and sweetness and consideration and thoughtfulness, and understand that this is just one example of zilllions. It just happens to be the most recent.
I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I do not cook. I mean, I CAN cook a little, but cooking for me ranks really really high on my list of things I hate. Mr. Mock doesn’t particularly enjoy it either, but nevertheless he does most of it in our house. WIth rare exceptions. He would LOVE for me to cook, but the hatred that I have for it borders on violent. I REALLY hate it. Happily, he loves me anyway.
Anyway, Mr. Mock warned me this morning that I should eat a light lunch because he was preparing a big dinner. This of course didn’t stop me from stuffing my face at lunch anyway, knowing full well I’d regain my appetite by this evening. And you know what he did? He bought shrimp and special diablo-esque sauce and made me my favorite shrimp diablo italian dish, even though he HATES shrimp and doesn’t even particularly care for the kind of pasta we had. And do you know why he did this? FOR NO REASON. This is how awesome he is. Before we ate I said, “This is the sweetest!!!” and he said, “Really? The sweetest?” and I said, “Well, I suppose it would have been sweeter if…” and then he interrupted me and said EXACTLY what I was going to say, which was “…if you had bitten into a shrimp and found a giant diamond in it?” And so I said, “YES!” and then I said, “AND, if contained in my napkin were two round trip tickets to Europe to see Robbie Williams in concert” and he said, “And attached to the Robbie Williams tickets were diamond stud earrings?” and I said, “YES” and he said, “And the napkin holder was that ring from Tiffany’s that you like?”
Do you see why I love him so much?
Anyway, so our conversation at dinner turned to Uga VI, the University of Georgia mascot, a bulldog, who recently passed away. As a graduate of UGA and a rabid college football fan to boot, Mr. Mock was deeply affected by Uga’s passing. I mean, it’s sad and all, but the reaction of the UGA community to this dog dying has been hilariously over the top. So Mr. Mock starts to tell me that the owners/breeders of all the Uga’s, GRIPPED WITH GRIEF, had to go on a 2 week cruise just to help themselves feel better. And now that they are back they are busying themselves responding to the jillions of condolences they’ve received. ABOUT A DOG.
I consider myself an animal lover, and maybe deep down I’m just jealous of Uga because if I died there wouldn’t be nearly this kind of fuss made over it, but come on. Really? Does this really warrant national attention?
Yes, Mr. Mock tells me adamantly. “This is a dog who took Georgia football, baseball, women’s basketball, gymnastics, tennis and golf to GLORY” he says. Emphasis on the glory, as Mr. Mock was genuinely getting a little misty as he said this. As if the dog had personal responsibility for the success of these teams. You know what that dog was doing during those games? Sitting and panting. I fail to see how this contributed.
Anyway, now that you have a sense of Mr. Mock’s devotion to his school mascot, just multiply that by like, a million. And that’s how devoted he is to me and the boys. And for this, I offer him this haiku:
Mr. Mock is the best
He loves me more than Uga
And makes good food too
Midgets are typically Holmes’ territory, but an alert and astute mockdocker sent me this photo, to ask me if it’s the weirdest midget I’ve ever seen.
I would rank this one as one of the weirdest for sure, considering that she has NO NECK and breast implants. I can’t say as I’ve seen that before, within the midget community.
Anyone know who this is?
I don’t know what it is, but I am not a Jessica Alba fan. I do not appreciate her smirkiness.
BUT, her baby is gorgeous. I love it when babies have all kinds of hair. Apparently, I myself did not have any hair whatsoever until I was like 2. I am embarrassed just thinking about it. It’s a good thing kids under two haven’t typically figured out how to be emotionally cruel to peers yet, otherwise I might be seriously damaged.
Totally off topic, but childhood humiliation got me thinking about one of the most pitiful things I did as a gradeschooler to get a boy’s attention. My last name when I was a kid started with the letter B, and every recess we were lined up alphabetically. In second grade, I was always behind this kid named Shaen Allen. This is a VIVID memory, and I vividly recall thinking the name “Shaen” was like the coolest most awesome name ever. Shaen was the most popular boy in the class, and because I had glasses when I was NINE, I was painfully unpopular and virtually invisible to Shaen.
So one day, determined to get him to notice me, I decided I was going to attempt to have a conversation with him. This literally took every ounce of courage I could muster, and lots of rehearsing of what I was going to say the night before and all morning long. I tapped him on the shoulder, and this is how the conversation went:
Shaen: (turning around and looking annoyed) What?
Me: Um……..hi……um I was wondering um…what is your favorite color? (Yes. This question took me HOURS TO CRAFT.)
Shaen: (annoyed) I don’t know. I guess I like red, white and blue best.
Me: (thinking that not only is he gorgeous and perfect but also irresistibly patriotic) Wow! That is so weird! Those are MY favorite colors too!!!
Shaen: (scowls at me and turns back around)
So, all along, I had a plan to find out his favorite color and then I was going to WEAR THAT COLOR to school the next day, CERTAIN that he would see me in his favorite color and be unable to resist me. This is how my mind operated in the 2nd grade. Only here was the problem. I did not own a shirt that had red, white and blue in it. So I went home that day, and INSISTED to my mother that I had to have a red, white and blue shirt for school the next day because of some school event which involved patriotism, and even though it was a huge inconvenience, she ran out to the store and came back with a red, white and blue t-shirt. I was OVERJOYED.
The next day, I absolutely FLAUNTED my new shirt. I felt invincible. I could not sit still in anticipation of recess. I just KNEW Shaen would notice me and immediately want to be my boyfriend. There was just no other option.
This is what happened in the recess line.
Me: (tapping Shaen on the shoulder) Hi! So, do you like my shirt?
Shaen: (annoyed) What?
Me: My shirt. It’s got your favorite colors in it!
Shaen (laughing, pointing at me, and yelling to all of the other cool boys he was friends with and essentially everyone else in line): YOU GUYS! Mockarena got this shirt just because I told her those were my favorite colors!!
Everyone Else In Line: (pointing at me and laughing) HAhahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahhah!!!
This was about when I burst into tears and ran. I’ve blocked out the rest of my entire second grade year after this point.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah. Jessica Alba’s kid. I’m glad she has hair.
So this 33 year old dude in Michigan was arrested on charges that he attempted to score with a minor. It was one of those undercover deals where he was chatting on line with someone he THOUGHT was a 14 year old girl, and totally sexing her up and being all lewd and disgusting, but the person on the receiving end of this exchange was an actual adult looking to bust child predators, only without the benefit of Chris Hansen.
Anyway, when this dude was picking out clothes for his afternoon romp with the supposed 14 year old, THIS IS THE SHIRT he opted to wear. Because obviously when you’re wanting to molest a child, you want to reassure them that you’re great with kids.
I don’t care if he’s married. I don’t care if he has a kid. Any dude who wears that outfit is officially gay. Plus, there was this:
I think we can consider this matter closed.
You guys, you may or may not know who Tucker Max is, and even if you know who he is, you may or may not know that his book, “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” is being made into a movie. For those of you who know nothing about Tucker Max (pictured on the left), he is the most vile, crude, womanizing, contemptible, salacious person on the planet. And, I TOTALLY LOVED his book. As a self-respecting woman, I should have hated it. But it’s so hilarious and outrageous that I couldn’t help but love it. Even though he’s a huge jackass.
ANYWAY, he wrote on his website about a bet that Michael Ian Black (pictured on the right) has waged with him. Michael said, “So Tucker Max, you drunk, misogynistic motherf*&%er - I am officially calling you OUT! I am going to fist f*&k every hole in your boozy little body until you crawl away like the sniveling little bitch that you are. YOU’RE DEAD!” There is more, and you can read it on MIB’s website. The whole thing is hysterical. And, if you browse around Tucker Max’s website, make sure to read some of the book excerpts so you can fully appreciate his wonderful wretchedness. It’s genius. And horrible.
So anyway, back to the bet. Priceless, right? And what’s even better is that Tucker Max totally loves that Michael Ian Black has called him out, and has responded in kind on his website. Here’s an excerpt:
“Michael, I have no problem helping you get the word out about your book (which I haven’t read but hear is pretty funny). But there is price to pay for trying to publicize it on the back of my book’s popularity. I accept. I‘m completely serious. I’d LOVE to fight you. I’ll even promise to show up drunk as sh*t. I’ll drink an unreasonable amount of alcohol before we fight–20 beers, 30 beers, whatever it takes to me plastered. And if you don’t think I’m drunk enough, I’ll keep drinking. As long as I am conscious and able to stand on my feet, I’ll fight you. And here’s the kicker: If you beat me, I’ll give you the next royalty check from my book. It should be about 150k, give or take agent fees and other things. I am completely serious. ”
And Tucker says more, but he ends it with this:
“And just to be clear: This isn’t personal. I think you are a funny comedian, and I really respect your work. I’d much rather kick the sh*t out of someone who deserves it, like Benji Madden or Brody Jenner. To that effect, I promise when I kick your ass, I’ll do my best not to leave any permanent damage.”
MIB has now responded on his blog. It’s now escalated into a total blog war and is completely awesome. Go read. Take your time. And then come back and tell me your thoughts. Only don’t get all preachy to me about Tucker’s hatred for women and his nastiness because I ALREADY KNOW. I can’t help that I like him. I just do.
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