Hey, Bruno Mars a 'Grenade' is a Fart Bomb!

Dear FM Radio listeners,
 
   In general, the swill you listen to sucks. It is, for the most part, pure crap. Lame lyrics. Formulaic rhythm tracks, reinforced by even lamer dance moves. You are, each of you, sheep that march swiftly into slaughter for the new pop fm radio single of the moment. Please, continue downloading your ring-tones...and, I honestly don't mind that you love your pop music. I don't care, that you don't care.

   What I do have strong feelings about, what really gets my panties in a bunch, is Bruno Mars and the fact that he has the balls (or come to think about it, maybe he doesn't have balls...that would explain things) to write the crap he writes, record that crap, perform that crap, sell that crap and not throw up in his own mouth every time he hears his own voice. He has all of the talent of a chicken-choking 15 year old boy.

   In my lifetime, I have survived many a pop star who was without talent, but you Bruno, take the cake. The lyrics to your current single 'Grenade' leave me absolutely dumbfounded. I can think of nothing better to do than to shove sharpened pencils in my ears each and every time I hear your Pledge of Allegiance to the United States of Lame.

   Bruno, buddy, FYI, a grenade is:
-a small shell containing an explosive and thrown by hand.
-the act of placing your hands behind your ass, while simultaneously cupping them & firmly farting into them and then tossing said grenade at the nearest persons face.
-According to reality TVs 'The Situation' of Jersey Shore fame, grenades are the ugly girls at the club that you 'date' just to 'get some'.
-All of the above, if used in reference to Bruno Mars and his talent (term used lightly).

If you (the reader of this Blog) have not heard Bruno's track...God Bless you! I have taken the liberties of jotting a few of Bruno's lyrics down for your enjoyment.

   Yours Truly,
   Billy

'Grenade' by Bruno Mars

"...To give me all your love is all I ever asked, Cause what you don't understand is
I’d catch a grenade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah). Throw my hand on a blade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah). I’d jump in front of a train for ya (yeah, yeah , yeah)...I would go through all this pain, Take a bullet straight through my brain..."

HOW TO NOT MAKE BREAD

When the crew was sitting around at their morning meeting tossing out 'project' ideas and some guy from across the table said "Hey gang! I've got a great one! Let's show our audience how to make bread. We'll get this dude, he's gotta look like a weightlifting tranny version of Olivia Newton John (circa 'Let's Get Physical'). He'll dance around to some uber shitty-electric 80s swill and pretend to make love to the loaves of bread..." Why, oh, why, didn't everyone take their hot cups of tea and throw it in his face?

EASILY, SHE WAS 300-325 POUNDS

Easily, she was 3-325 pounds and towered at barely 5-foot 2. Clearly, she rocked her 'Apple Bottom' jeans. She was loud and everyone in the store needed to know her business...her and her hands-free cell phone. Her weave needed reweaving, I could see a thatch of hair had become un-thatched. She was in line, in front of me at the Target store.

Like anyone who's ever gone shopping, I surfed her shopping cart. Nothing out of the ordinary, 16-cans of Pedigree Dog Food and a 10ML bottle of KY Intense. What?! Naturally I took a 'double take', re-swallowed my lunch from this afternoon. The picture splattered all over the interior of my skull of her applying the 'Arousal Gel' was far worse than walking in on my parents 'doing the dirty'..."massage 2-4 pumps to the clitoris during foreplay. Reapply as desired", according to KYs website....WTF.

THE FLYING DRAWBRIDGE OF THE NETHERLANDS

This monster is called the "Slauerhoffbrug," and it hails from Leeuwarden in the Netherlands...home of Death-Metal and SICK ass bridges! The road section is lifted on a single massive counterbalanced arm up to 90 degrees in the air.
Hit up frozenly.com for additional views.

NOW THAT'S AWKWARD! HUGH JACKMAN, INTERUPTED

During a recent performance of Broadway's A Steady Rain, some dorks ringing cellphone interrupted Hugh Jackman, mid-sentence. The retard's cell rang on and on and on. Hugh & Daniel Craig asked the dork in the audience to either answer his phone and turn it off, yet he was so shit-faced stupid that he would not or could not kill the phone.
Shaky footage of Hugh Jackman's and Daniel Craig's angry, in-character demands for silence was captured by what appears to be the video-capable cell phone of another inconsiderate audience member.
Know what would've been cool? I once saw Ted Nugent perform in '82, there was a dumb-ass in the audience that insisted in badgering Ted Nugent frontman...and when he had had enough of that shithead's antics, Ted (what is his real name, anyways?) tossed his guitar to a roadie, picked up the mic-stand and pounded the asshole's face over and over and over. He then leaped offstage and beat the poop out of the bewildered dork. The crowd roared with approval as the bleeding audience member was dragged out of the arena. I miss those days!

THE RAPING OF THE SEX PISTOLS...AND YET AGAIN

The Sex Pistols iconic album titled 'Never Mind the Bullocks, Here's the Sex Pistols' has been used by Big Bowl to advertise their chain of Asian influenced (loosely stated) restaurants. The original album art represented one of the best known catalysts for the Punk Rock music movement, ever...The Sex Pistols.
Jamie Reid was the artist whose 'cut & paste-DIY' style created one of the most universally well known album covers to date.
I find it mighty insulting that Big Bowl - Fresh Chinese and Thai (one of many in the 'Lettuce Entertain You' chain of restaurants) has felt some strange sort of connection to the The Sex Pistols with their 'Never Mind Chinatown...' campaign. What the hell could they (Big Bowl) be thinking? Do they feel that they too are all about anarchy and making bold, life changing statements? Take it from me, I've dined on some Big Bowl before and I can assure you that the only thing that changed in my life was my drawers. A poor attempt at Asian food and a poor attempt at being cool. Hey, Big Bowl, kiss my bollocks!