Jessica Simpson

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Jessica Simpson!

There. Have I gotten her out of our collective systems now?

According to ancient eastern philosophy, a new super-genius should be coming on the pop-art scene any minute now. Could it be you? Could you be the next Andy Warhol or John Lennon? Could you hurry please!? Someone needs to fill the intellectual and cultural vacuum that chickpea has created.

Oh, stop it. You know you hate her. Even if you think she’s hot or something. I’m not being cruel – she simply has nothing to offer any of us. She’s…pretty, sure. She can sing, I’ll give her that. But why should I care? She’s the musical equivalent of McDonald’s. She may taste good, but there’s nothing nutritional about her – and I think she’ll be the downfall of mankind.

I eat at McDonald’s. I smoke. I’m overweight (not for long). I think that I’ve adequately proven that I don’t give a rat’s behind about my physical health. But I can’t abide my brain being whittled away by empty-headed pop stars. I try to avoid her, I do. I didn’t watch but two minutes of her show last night. Just long enough to witness her sing with Jewel and Kenny Rogers. Oh Kenny, say it ain’t so.

It’s just an act, right?

Rrriiight. An act. She’s actually a super intellect. Laughing all the way to the bank. Lucky for her, that her publicists, agents, manager (Dad the pimp), and entourage of hangers-on can point her in the direction of the bank. If it were up to her to deposit the money on her own, there would be a very lucky postal worker somewhere in Orlando right now.

(you see…because she mistakenly put her money in…hehehehe…a mailbox!...hahaha…eh)

Now who laughing to who’s bank!?

Obviously I’m not the second coming of James Joyce. Hurry up super-genius, before it’s too late!


Fun Fact: I played basketball on Saturday. I suck. I don’t play hard. I can hardly play at all. With that said; why am I still sore? Yesterday I was staggering around my house like someone who’s just traded their “ninety-day chip” for a pint of Jack Daniels. I’m a puss, but I’m hobbling all the way to the bank!


Not really…unless Tanya needs quarters.