Bizarro Post Social Media Bureau- Americans are laughing it up at a recently married couple from Conway, South Carolina who chose to get a joint Facebook account. The Facebook page entitled "Jeff-and-Britnee Whities" began distributing friend requests to friends and family after their original accounts were deactivated.
"Hahahaha, no, but seriously, it's adorable," said local resident Terrance Cowan.
Experts agree that approximately 80% of these joint accounts are made by bitch-made husbands with spouses that gently demand "accountability" in their marriage. In addition to that, experts also found that joint Facebook accounts made messy divorces 210% more hilarious for observers.
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Cuccinelli Reveals Sultry Scandal
Bizarro Virginia (BP)- Just before the election that will select Virginia's next governor, shocking and scandalous revelations have come to light regarding Tea Party darling Ken Cuccinelli (R).
His voice breaking at times, an emotional Cuccinelli addressed the assembled press about his alleged indiscretions. To the surprise of many, especially the ardent and wealthy supporters of the Cuccinelli campaign, the staunch Christian fundamentalist came clean and bared his soul to the voters in a bid for forgiveness.
"This campaign has been difficult, but it brought my wife and I closer than I could have ever imagined," Cuccinelli began, dabbing sweat from his brow. "Last Sunday, soiling the sanctity of the Sabbath, my wife and I engaged in....intimate contact. And during this time, we did not use the sheet with the hole in it as God intended."
Murmurs in the press pool. "How often do you wash this sheet? How big is the hole? Could you show me with your thumb and index finger?" asked Richard Christie from Howard Stern's news crew.
Cuccinelli stammered back into his confession. "As my wife and I engaged in coitus, I am ashamed to admit that we may have kissed one another in places that God never intended. And my hand did stray to sinful and forbidden places. God will never forgive me for that eight minutes of hellish obscenity, but I hope the voters of Virginia can accept my apology."
Cuccinelli produced a whip and began to flay apart his shirt and flesh, sobbing openly. The peanut gallery quietly tiptoed from the room as the attorney general collapsed into a pool of blood, tears, and soft tissue.
"We're optimistic about our candidate's chances," said Cuccinelli campaign manager Arnold Foster. "We haven't even bothered writing a concession speech. There's no doubt that we've got this in the bag. The unskewed polls don't lie."
His voice breaking at times, an emotional Cuccinelli addressed the assembled press about his alleged indiscretions. To the surprise of many, especially the ardent and wealthy supporters of the Cuccinelli campaign, the staunch Christian fundamentalist came clean and bared his soul to the voters in a bid for forgiveness.
"This campaign has been difficult, but it brought my wife and I closer than I could have ever imagined," Cuccinelli began, dabbing sweat from his brow. "Last Sunday, soiling the sanctity of the Sabbath, my wife and I engaged in....intimate contact. And during this time, we did not use the sheet with the hole in it as God intended."
Murmurs in the press pool. "How often do you wash this sheet? How big is the hole? Could you show me with your thumb and index finger?" asked Richard Christie from Howard Stern's news crew.
Cuccinelli stammered back into his confession. "As my wife and I engaged in coitus, I am ashamed to admit that we may have kissed one another in places that God never intended. And my hand did stray to sinful and forbidden places. God will never forgive me for that eight minutes of hellish obscenity, but I hope the voters of Virginia can accept my apology."
Cuccinelli produced a whip and began to flay apart his shirt and flesh, sobbing openly. The peanut gallery quietly tiptoed from the room as the attorney general collapsed into a pool of blood, tears, and soft tissue.
"We're optimistic about our candidate's chances," said Cuccinelli campaign manager Arnold Foster. "We haven't even bothered writing a concession speech. There's no doubt that we've got this in the bag. The unskewed polls don't lie."
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
How to Make Your Wedding Day Unforgettable!
Bizarro Post Bitter Nihilist Bureau- So you're planning on getting married, huh? Isn't that precious? Devoting your whole life to a person who might die before you do, leaving you miserable and far too old for society to accept you dating again. Or maybe you'll die first. Who gives a shit? And that's assuming your husband doesn't decide to get some strange, or your wife doesn't run away with her tennis instructor named Juan. Here's Bizarro Post's guide to making your "speeecciiaalll dayyyyy" really magical, and in September for some reason. Who the hell gets married this time of year?
FLOWERS
It's Fall, so you can't go wrong with Australian Frilled Tulips with a touch of holly.
Just screwing with you. You're buying plant genitals. Pick you favorite color and put that shit everywhere. Here's a protip: They all look the same when they're dead. Oh, and guess what! So will you.
For bouquets, take a shitload of flowers and tie those bastards together. Try not to strain yourself, sweetheart.
RINGS
Nothing says, "I'm a stupid asshole who will fall for literally anything!" like buying a nice, big diamond ring for your lovely bride. You know who made that a thing? De Beers. Do you know who carefully controls the market for that shiny rock your lovely lady demands? De Beers. Do you know who hires hitmen to brutally murder anyone developing artificial precious stones? De Beers. Do you know who monitors the diamond mines run by ruthless African warlords? De Beers. And you bought into it. I hope that African orphan blood on your diamond doesn't tarnish your big day. It's so hard to get that stuff off when you let it soak in too long. Try to avoid scratching yourself with the gemstone too, since I'm pretty sure that kid had HIV from birth. He got it from his mother, who got it from the sectarian paramilitary commander that assaulted her.
But yeah, you have a great wedding day.
DRESS
Hide your eyes, groom! Don't you know it's bad luck to see your bride decked out in her giant gilded-ass table cloth before she walks down the aisle and seals her fate?
Brides, your dress is a relic of the patriarchy that demands a constant supply of subservient virgins for God-fearing genocidal barbarian men. Did you know that the Old Testament says women who don't bleed all over the white sheets on their wedding night deserve to be beaten to death with rocks? Oh, but don't worry, since you're a modern religious type you can just ignore that part like you ignore all the other ones that don't agree with your political agenda. So feel free to give Mrs.Ramirez from Holiday Inn housekeeping a well-deserved reprieve.
By the way, what the hell is a garter belt anyway? It looks like the hair scrunchy industry made some oversized product and was like, "Holy shit, this would look great around a chick's thigh!" So what, it's a pit stop on the way north to the only part of the event the groom actually cares about? And apparently it's frowned upon if you try to stuff it in your pocket and take it home. Hey Uncle Dan, don't throw that shit if you plan to keep it, idiot.
TUXEDO
Haha, all that's expected of men is to wear a tie and maybe put something on their hair. And we can just rent that shit. Nobody expects us to hang on to it. Thanks patriarchy!
PHOTOGRAPHY
What's the point of spending money if you don't have an HD, high-pixel-count depiction of your excess? Don't answer that, it's rhetorical.
Here's a concept: One day you'll be dead, and your children will be dead, and their children will be dead. Do you remember the intimate details of your great-great-grandparents' wedding? You don't!? Then why the hell would you expect any different? One day the sun will implode, and nothing you've ever created or done will matter. No life form will ever acknowledge that you lived and loved. Your photos will be devoured by an indifferent universe, just as a lion devours a gazelle.
LOCATION
Justice of the Peace's office. You get all the paperwork, all the tax incentives, and all the satisfaction of being lawfully married. The Justice might even shake your hands if you're lucky. You'll have wasted no money, nobody's time, and you've achieved the same conclusion. Enjoy your fleeting years of happiness together, assuming there's any happiness at all.
I'm emotionally exhausted now. I'm going to go smoke a cigarette and listen to some Radiohead. Have a nice life, you drones.
FLOWERS
It's Fall, so you can't go wrong with Australian Frilled Tulips with a touch of holly.
Just screwing with you. You're buying plant genitals. Pick you favorite color and put that shit everywhere. Here's a protip: They all look the same when they're dead. Oh, and guess what! So will you.
For bouquets, take a shitload of flowers and tie those bastards together. Try not to strain yourself, sweetheart.
RINGS
Nothing says, "I'm a stupid asshole who will fall for literally anything!" like buying a nice, big diamond ring for your lovely bride. You know who made that a thing? De Beers. Do you know who carefully controls the market for that shiny rock your lovely lady demands? De Beers. Do you know who hires hitmen to brutally murder anyone developing artificial precious stones? De Beers. Do you know who monitors the diamond mines run by ruthless African warlords? De Beers. And you bought into it. I hope that African orphan blood on your diamond doesn't tarnish your big day. It's so hard to get that stuff off when you let it soak in too long. Try to avoid scratching yourself with the gemstone too, since I'm pretty sure that kid had HIV from birth. He got it from his mother, who got it from the sectarian paramilitary commander that assaulted her.
But yeah, you have a great wedding day.
DRESS
Hide your eyes, groom! Don't you know it's bad luck to see your bride decked out in her giant gilded-ass table cloth before she walks down the aisle and seals her fate?
Brides, your dress is a relic of the patriarchy that demands a constant supply of subservient virgins for God-fearing genocidal barbarian men. Did you know that the Old Testament says women who don't bleed all over the white sheets on their wedding night deserve to be beaten to death with rocks? Oh, but don't worry, since you're a modern religious type you can just ignore that part like you ignore all the other ones that don't agree with your political agenda. So feel free to give Mrs.Ramirez from Holiday Inn housekeeping a well-deserved reprieve.
By the way, what the hell is a garter belt anyway? It looks like the hair scrunchy industry made some oversized product and was like, "Holy shit, this would look great around a chick's thigh!" So what, it's a pit stop on the way north to the only part of the event the groom actually cares about? And apparently it's frowned upon if you try to stuff it in your pocket and take it home. Hey Uncle Dan, don't throw that shit if you plan to keep it, idiot.
TUXEDO
Haha, all that's expected of men is to wear a tie and maybe put something on their hair. And we can just rent that shit. Nobody expects us to hang on to it. Thanks patriarchy!
PHOTOGRAPHY
What's the point of spending money if you don't have an HD, high-pixel-count depiction of your excess? Don't answer that, it's rhetorical.
Here's a concept: One day you'll be dead, and your children will be dead, and their children will be dead. Do you remember the intimate details of your great-great-grandparents' wedding? You don't!? Then why the hell would you expect any different? One day the sun will implode, and nothing you've ever created or done will matter. No life form will ever acknowledge that you lived and loved. Your photos will be devoured by an indifferent universe, just as a lion devours a gazelle.
LOCATION
Justice of the Peace's office. You get all the paperwork, all the tax incentives, and all the satisfaction of being lawfully married. The Justice might even shake your hands if you're lucky. You'll have wasted no money, nobody's time, and you've achieved the same conclusion. Enjoy your fleeting years of happiness together, assuming there's any happiness at all.
I'm emotionally exhausted now. I'm going to go smoke a cigarette and listen to some Radiohead. Have a nice life, you drones.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Fuck Steve Harvey and the Cookie He Rode in On
Bizarro Post Indignation Bureau- Fuck Steve Harvey.
He's an insufferable asshole. He is an ever-flowing fountain of pseudo-intellectual bullshit.
Normally, I wouldn't dream of wasting the Indignation Bureau's considerable talent on the latest host of Family Feud. After all, it's the place where acting careers go just before vanishing into the aether, never to be seen again. It's like an elephant graveyard for supporting actors from successful sitcoms that ended years ago. When's the last time you saw Al from Home Improvement, or Elaine's boss from Seinfeld? Exactly.
But he had to go and get a talk show, didn't he? Now there's a second season, and that's terrible. Here's why:
- I am honestly baffled that he managed to succeed as a professional comedian for 27 goddamn years. Steve takes milquetoast grandpa-isms and tries to shout them to life like Dr. Frankenstein on a cloudless night. While other comedians are scaling the cocaine-dusted crags of Mount Stand-up, Harvey is content to pace around at base-camp while his interns Photoshop him onto the summit. Here's an example of what passes for comedy on the Steve Harvey Show:
A woman stands up in the audience and asks Steve why her boyfriend insists on calling her "Bob" when her name is Ashley.
"Well, maybe it because you got something bobbing when you walk by, you know?" replies Harvey, palming two invisible asscheeks. "When you walk by, he's like BOP BOPPA DOO BOP BAH BOP BOP BOP!"
How's that for a big scoop of comedy oatmeal? Harvey starts with some casual sexual harassment, takes the word "Bob", determines that it rhymes with "Bop", and then he decides that belting out Little Richard is good for a cheap pop from the audience. Sure enough, he gets it. Rinse and repeat for episode after episode.
- So Steve wants to be a Christian entertainer? Alright, that's fine. All the best. But Steve, you want to have it both ways. You want to be able to telepathically palm the asses of your trusting audience members and paint yourself as T.D. Jakes. There's no law against doing that, but it makes you look like a tremendous tool.
Harvey, in especially saucy moments on his show, mops sweat from his brow while mumbling, "I sure am glad I'm a Christian right now, let me tell you folks." It's like his faith, which he barely seems to adhere to, is the only thing keeping him from going full Bob Filner.
- The Cookie.
To most people, it's a delicious baked good. To a certain Sesame Street character, it's a crippling addiction. To Steve Harvey, it's sex.
No, really.
If you're wondering why Steve is referring to a woman's body as an object, it's not an accidental window into his innermost psyche (for once). This is absolutely what he means. Harvey, projecting like a fucking I-Max, insists that all men are sexually insatiable creatures that are dominated entirely by barely restrained libidos. Therefore, all the smart ladies out there can use their bodies to manipulate men into serving their interests, since men would never, ever do something for a woman out of respect or love. In Steve-world, men are dogs, and women exist to serve as the dog biscuits that motivate them to sit, stay, and to stop humping everyone's leg. Men are consumers, women are merchandise; so a smart woman had better learn to haggle! See what I'm driving at here?
I suppose it's to be expected from a man with as many obvious issues as Steve. He's on his third marriage, and his first two wives aren't his biggest fans. As a matter of fact, Wife 2 is still insisting that Harvey cheated on her. I don't have any direct evidence of this, of course, but Steve's done absolutely fuck-all to convince me he's capable of the commitment necessary to form a lasting relationship. There's never any mention of friendship or love. Steve views the entire breadth of human romance as the conflict between the Sex Givers and the Sex Wanters.
Okay, Steve, you're a broken human being. We get it. I hope you fix that someday. But you wrote a goddamn book based on your warped concept of human interaction. People read that book and believed it. So fuck you very much for that.
Did I mention that Steve suggests a 90-day probationary period before giving your new boyfriend The Cookie? Because that's how relationships work on his home planet Asswipe 7, in the Sociopath Nebula.
"When I worked at Ford Motor Company, they have (sic) a probation (sic) period...[before they] release their benefit package to you. Why do women, who possess the greatest benefit of them all (Fuck. Off.), why [are] you passing on your benefits to a guy who has not been on the job for 90 days?"
A benefits package. There you fucking have it. A woman's body is a benefits package that you earn by, what, spending money on her for a period of no less than 90 days? And is she obligated to provide her "benefits" at the end of that period? I don't know if that's what he's suggesting, but I get this horrible sinking feeling that it's exactly what he means. No mention of marriage, naturally, so there goes his devotion to living a devout Christian life. What a goddamn shock.
Why doesn't Steve abstain? Why is it the woman's responsibility? Because he's never had to do it, he's never intended to do it, and I wouldn't be surprised if he gets caught with his hand in the "cookie jar" once again. Devout Christian over here, everyone.
- A good talk show host knows how to work an emotional moment. Steve Harvey is not a good talk show host.
Occasionally, Steve will have a guest on his show that hasn't seen their mom or their daughter for a decade or so. He finds them, reunites them. It's Talk Show 101 stuff. So Steve brings out this estranged loved one, the two guests embrace and cry. Steve sits motionless in his chair, his mouth agape, his eyes vacant. Perhaps he's experiencing faint twinges of this "empathy" thing he's heard so much about. In any event, the weeping party is left to their own devices for about 90 seconds too long as the guy who's supposed to be hosting eventually tosses together some platitudes about God having a plan. Toss to break. Collect the paycheck.
And animals. Animal segments are required for talk shows by several international treaties, so it is with great reluctance that Harvey has on one of those guys with the khaki ensemble and pith helmet to play America's favorite talk show game: Will it Poop?
Nobody likes doing these segments, but they're at least polite about it. Conan O'Brien is especially good at playing off of his animal guests. Again, these are skills that a talk show host should have. Harvey spends every animal segment cringing away from every crocodile and parakeet that gets within 50 feet.
"You keep that thing away from me now, before I have to smack somebody," Harvey stutters as he's stared down by an elated Labrador puppy.
"Come on, Steve! It's fine!" says the visibly puzzled handler, desperately trying to push this stalling segment forward.
"No. I ain't getting anywhere near anything you're bringing out here."
He's trying to save the show that's named after you. Pet the damn sloth and move on with your life.
- I'll admit, I don't have the highest opinion of people who willingly go to a live taping of The Steve Harvey Show. However, my prejudices have been dashed time and time again by seeing the many instances in which audience members are clearly bored or disgusted by what they're witnessing.
My favorite moment of all time came when Steve was giving dating advice to an older woman who had a printed list of standards men had to meet before she'd date them. You see, most of this came from being horribly betrayed by men she had been involved with in the past. Anyone can see that she's hurting, and doesn't want to be hurt again. A smart person would build her shattered self-esteem and her bruised sense of confidence. Dr. Phil would be all over that shit. Steve hones in on item number one in the woman's list. Naturally, she wants a man who has never cheated on any previous partner. Sounds pretty reasonable to me!
"No!" gasps Harvey, as though he were chastising an infant who had just said a bad word. According to Steve, guru of love that he is, EVERY man has cheated in their early adult years! You can't seriously expect to find a man who has never cheated!
The camera pans to a sea of scowling women, some shaking their heads in quiet fury. Steve's reflexive attempt to keep the pillow pressed firmly over the face of his atrophied conscience had fooled no one. The chivalrous veneer crumbled more than enough for them to see that this poor woman who came to Steve Harvey for advice was being insulted because she held romantic partners to a standard that Steve had zero fucking interest in reaching.
On top of that, Harvey insists that men and women can never be friends. While I freely admit that I've seen many examples of men and women having secret romantic intentions with friends, to say that it is impossible is yet another example of Steve's warped beliefs on his gender. Specifically, all men are exactly like Steve Harvey. To think otherwise is just silly! You're just not dealing with home truths! And if he's right (God help us all), Steve Harvey must really hate Steve Harvey! Because I sure as shit do!
- But Steve doesn't hate himself half as much as he should. As a matter of fact, his ego is so far beyond acceptable that it's obscene (I know it when I see it). The Steve Harvey Tumblr account is filled to the brim with image macros of Steve Harvey quoting himself.
"Anyone who quotes themselves is a shitstreak on the jockey shorts of civilization." ----Me
You see, Steve is a man's man. He's a provider, an alpha male firmly in charge of his God-ordained destiny. His children have everything they'll ever need to succeed because of his efforts, and the women in his life get their alimony and Trophy Wife dues every month without fail. That just makes him a superior human! Hell, why not? The rich are already basically immune to the laws that bind puny mortals. Why not take it a step further and enshrine them as Godkings? Jesus quoted himself all the time! Guess that explains why a demigod like Steve feels no compunction about doing the same thing!
Oh, what's that, starving Ethiopians? You object to Harvey's rules of manhood because you live in an economically depressed country with no hope of ever being able to truly provide for your family? Well gosh, I guess you should just work harder if you want to become legitimate members of the human race!
What's that, millennial wage slaves? Can't afford to buy a house for you and your girlfriend, cash out of pocket? Well fuck you then, little boy! You don't deserve to be given your mandatory cookie ration with that can't-do attitude!
--------------------------------------------------------------
When Steve Harvey wrote "Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man", he wrote it to "empower women" by explaining the mindset of all men, and how to manipulate it to their advantage. The thing is, it's really an instruction manual on how to avoid the kind of walking douchestorm that nobody should ever interact with for any reason. It's a glimpse into the dangerous psyche of a man who thinks wealth defines value for men, and genitals define value for women. It's Steve Harvey's hate letter to himself, and he didn't even realize it. Well this is my hate letter to you, Steve Harvey.
Fuck Steve Harvey.
He's an insufferable asshole. He is an ever-flowing fountain of pseudo-intellectual bullshit.
Normally, I wouldn't dream of wasting the Indignation Bureau's considerable talent on the latest host of Family Feud. After all, it's the place where acting careers go just before vanishing into the aether, never to be seen again. It's like an elephant graveyard for supporting actors from successful sitcoms that ended years ago. When's the last time you saw Al from Home Improvement, or Elaine's boss from Seinfeld? Exactly.
But he had to go and get a talk show, didn't he? Now there's a second season, and that's terrible. Here's why:
- I am honestly baffled that he managed to succeed as a professional comedian for 27 goddamn years. Steve takes milquetoast grandpa-isms and tries to shout them to life like Dr. Frankenstein on a cloudless night. While other comedians are scaling the cocaine-dusted crags of Mount Stand-up, Harvey is content to pace around at base-camp while his interns Photoshop him onto the summit. Here's an example of what passes for comedy on the Steve Harvey Show:
A woman stands up in the audience and asks Steve why her boyfriend insists on calling her "Bob" when her name is Ashley.
"Well, maybe it because you got something bobbing when you walk by, you know?" replies Harvey, palming two invisible asscheeks. "When you walk by, he's like BOP BOPPA DOO BOP BAH BOP BOP BOP!"
How's that for a big scoop of comedy oatmeal? Harvey starts with some casual sexual harassment, takes the word "Bob", determines that it rhymes with "Bop", and then he decides that belting out Little Richard is good for a cheap pop from the audience. Sure enough, he gets it. Rinse and repeat for episode after episode.
- So Steve wants to be a Christian entertainer? Alright, that's fine. All the best. But Steve, you want to have it both ways. You want to be able to telepathically palm the asses of your trusting audience members and paint yourself as T.D. Jakes. There's no law against doing that, but it makes you look like a tremendous tool.
Harvey, in especially saucy moments on his show, mops sweat from his brow while mumbling, "I sure am glad I'm a Christian right now, let me tell you folks." It's like his faith, which he barely seems to adhere to, is the only thing keeping him from going full Bob Filner.
- The Cookie.
To most people, it's a delicious baked good. To a certain Sesame Street character, it's a crippling addiction. To Steve Harvey, it's sex.
No, really.
If you're wondering why Steve is referring to a woman's body as an object, it's not an accidental window into his innermost psyche (for once). This is absolutely what he means. Harvey, projecting like a fucking I-Max, insists that all men are sexually insatiable creatures that are dominated entirely by barely restrained libidos. Therefore, all the smart ladies out there can use their bodies to manipulate men into serving their interests, since men would never, ever do something for a woman out of respect or love. In Steve-world, men are dogs, and women exist to serve as the dog biscuits that motivate them to sit, stay, and to stop humping everyone's leg. Men are consumers, women are merchandise; so a smart woman had better learn to haggle! See what I'm driving at here?
I suppose it's to be expected from a man with as many obvious issues as Steve. He's on his third marriage, and his first two wives aren't his biggest fans. As a matter of fact, Wife 2 is still insisting that Harvey cheated on her. I don't have any direct evidence of this, of course, but Steve's done absolutely fuck-all to convince me he's capable of the commitment necessary to form a lasting relationship. There's never any mention of friendship or love. Steve views the entire breadth of human romance as the conflict between the Sex Givers and the Sex Wanters.
Okay, Steve, you're a broken human being. We get it. I hope you fix that someday. But you wrote a goddamn book based on your warped concept of human interaction. People read that book and believed it. So fuck you very much for that.
Did I mention that Steve suggests a 90-day probationary period before giving your new boyfriend The Cookie? Because that's how relationships work on his home planet Asswipe 7, in the Sociopath Nebula.
"When I worked at Ford Motor Company, they have (sic) a probation (sic) period...[before they] release their benefit package to you. Why do women, who possess the greatest benefit of them all (Fuck. Off.), why [are] you passing on your benefits to a guy who has not been on the job for 90 days?"
A benefits package. There you fucking have it. A woman's body is a benefits package that you earn by, what, spending money on her for a period of no less than 90 days? And is she obligated to provide her "benefits" at the end of that period? I don't know if that's what he's suggesting, but I get this horrible sinking feeling that it's exactly what he means. No mention of marriage, naturally, so there goes his devotion to living a devout Christian life. What a goddamn shock.
Why doesn't Steve abstain? Why is it the woman's responsibility? Because he's never had to do it, he's never intended to do it, and I wouldn't be surprised if he gets caught with his hand in the "cookie jar" once again. Devout Christian over here, everyone.
- A good talk show host knows how to work an emotional moment. Steve Harvey is not a good talk show host.
Occasionally, Steve will have a guest on his show that hasn't seen their mom or their daughter for a decade or so. He finds them, reunites them. It's Talk Show 101 stuff. So Steve brings out this estranged loved one, the two guests embrace and cry. Steve sits motionless in his chair, his mouth agape, his eyes vacant. Perhaps he's experiencing faint twinges of this "empathy" thing he's heard so much about. In any event, the weeping party is left to their own devices for about 90 seconds too long as the guy who's supposed to be hosting eventually tosses together some platitudes about God having a plan. Toss to break. Collect the paycheck.
And animals. Animal segments are required for talk shows by several international treaties, so it is with great reluctance that Harvey has on one of those guys with the khaki ensemble and pith helmet to play America's favorite talk show game: Will it Poop?
Nobody likes doing these segments, but they're at least polite about it. Conan O'Brien is especially good at playing off of his animal guests. Again, these are skills that a talk show host should have. Harvey spends every animal segment cringing away from every crocodile and parakeet that gets within 50 feet.
"You keep that thing away from me now, before I have to smack somebody," Harvey stutters as he's stared down by an elated Labrador puppy.
"Come on, Steve! It's fine!" says the visibly puzzled handler, desperately trying to push this stalling segment forward.
"No. I ain't getting anywhere near anything you're bringing out here."
He's trying to save the show that's named after you. Pet the damn sloth and move on with your life.
- I'll admit, I don't have the highest opinion of people who willingly go to a live taping of The Steve Harvey Show. However, my prejudices have been dashed time and time again by seeing the many instances in which audience members are clearly bored or disgusted by what they're witnessing.
My favorite moment of all time came when Steve was giving dating advice to an older woman who had a printed list of standards men had to meet before she'd date them. You see, most of this came from being horribly betrayed by men she had been involved with in the past. Anyone can see that she's hurting, and doesn't want to be hurt again. A smart person would build her shattered self-esteem and her bruised sense of confidence. Dr. Phil would be all over that shit. Steve hones in on item number one in the woman's list. Naturally, she wants a man who has never cheated on any previous partner. Sounds pretty reasonable to me!
"No!" gasps Harvey, as though he were chastising an infant who had just said a bad word. According to Steve, guru of love that he is, EVERY man has cheated in their early adult years! You can't seriously expect to find a man who has never cheated!
The camera pans to a sea of scowling women, some shaking their heads in quiet fury. Steve's reflexive attempt to keep the pillow pressed firmly over the face of his atrophied conscience had fooled no one. The chivalrous veneer crumbled more than enough for them to see that this poor woman who came to Steve Harvey for advice was being insulted because she held romantic partners to a standard that Steve had zero fucking interest in reaching.
On top of that, Harvey insists that men and women can never be friends. While I freely admit that I've seen many examples of men and women having secret romantic intentions with friends, to say that it is impossible is yet another example of Steve's warped beliefs on his gender. Specifically, all men are exactly like Steve Harvey. To think otherwise is just silly! You're just not dealing with home truths! And if he's right (God help us all), Steve Harvey must really hate Steve Harvey! Because I sure as shit do!
- But Steve doesn't hate himself half as much as he should. As a matter of fact, his ego is so far beyond acceptable that it's obscene (I know it when I see it). The Steve Harvey Tumblr account is filled to the brim with image macros of Steve Harvey quoting himself.
"Anyone who quotes themselves is a shitstreak on the jockey shorts of civilization." ----Me
You see, Steve is a man's man. He's a provider, an alpha male firmly in charge of his God-ordained destiny. His children have everything they'll ever need to succeed because of his efforts, and the women in his life get their alimony and Trophy Wife dues every month without fail. That just makes him a superior human! Hell, why not? The rich are already basically immune to the laws that bind puny mortals. Why not take it a step further and enshrine them as Godkings? Jesus quoted himself all the time! Guess that explains why a demigod like Steve feels no compunction about doing the same thing!
Oh, what's that, starving Ethiopians? You object to Harvey's rules of manhood because you live in an economically depressed country with no hope of ever being able to truly provide for your family? Well gosh, I guess you should just work harder if you want to become legitimate members of the human race!
What's that, millennial wage slaves? Can't afford to buy a house for you and your girlfriend, cash out of pocket? Well fuck you then, little boy! You don't deserve to be given your mandatory cookie ration with that can't-do attitude!
--------------------------------------------------------------
When Steve Harvey wrote "Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man", he wrote it to "empower women" by explaining the mindset of all men, and how to manipulate it to their advantage. The thing is, it's really an instruction manual on how to avoid the kind of walking douchestorm that nobody should ever interact with for any reason. It's a glimpse into the dangerous psyche of a man who thinks wealth defines value for men, and genitals define value for women. It's Steve Harvey's hate letter to himself, and he didn't even realize it. Well this is my hate letter to you, Steve Harvey.
Fuck Steve Harvey.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Demeaning Demands of Dapper Darling
Bizarro Manhattan, NY (BP)- Thousands of middle and working class women
are grieving today after being denied access to the finest piece of
manflesh to ever draw breath.
56-year-old
Robert Darling graced Times Square with his radiance, bearing a sign
offering his strong, but limber hand in marriage to a wealthy woman.
Robert is tragically unemployed, after the other male supermodels at his
former employer complained about all the contracts going to him.
Surprisingly, the darling Robert Darling has never had a serious
relationship in his life.
"There are simply too many women who want to court
me because of my face, and I guess I've made peace with that," Robert
explained. "However, if a lady desires my visage, I should at least
expect her to be able to provide the proper compensation. I'm not a
prostitute, of course. This Clydesdale stud is only getting auctioned
off once!"
Activists object strongly to Robert's tactics,
insisting that he is promoting classist principles by denying 50% of the
99% access to this Adonis.
Darling insists that the critics are simply "Jelly."
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Finding Yourself in the Friendzone
Bizarro Society Bureau- Graduate student Howard Loftus, 25, was a man on a mission. For the entirety of his post-pubescent life, Howard sought out a relationship with his female peers--only to be relegated to a place he referred to as "The Friend Zone".
"I didn't understand what I was doing wrong," said Howard. "All the movies said that the nice guy got the girl in the end, and I was the nicest guy ever. I never pressured girls, I was chivalrous, I did everything right. And all I got were friends. Not even with benefits."
Howard's situation is far from rare. Many online communities have so many nice guys bemoaning their misfortune, they have to quarantine them in into separate sub-forums--usually on the pretense of creating a separate place to discuss "Relationship Problems" or "My Little Pony Fandom". Social media has provided a never-ending stream of examples for those who find themselves fascinated with Friend Zone inhabitants. Not only was Howard aware of his status, he was well-versed on the shameful implications of his situation.
"It's like having herpes, and everyone just assume you got it from being promiscuous," said Howard. "People would come to me for computer help, or turn to me for the questions about Star Trek and Dr.Who at bar trivia nights."
Negative connotations involved with Friend Zone entrapment did not help matters. But as bad as Howard had it, many other men lived in an even grimmer district of The Friend Zone.
Self-Destruction for Seduction
Francis Lee, 22, was something of a celebrity at the famed New York University campus. The young man was wealthy beyond his years thanks to a pair of generous business mogul parents, and his grades earned him regular appearances on the Dean's List. His fame, or infamy, had nothing to do with his background or achievements. In fact, the buzz was born on Facebook.
Carla Moore's birthday brought well wishers to her Facebook page just in time to witness something few would ever forget. A photograph was posted early that morning featuring Moore posing next to a new Mercedes wrapped in a giant novelty bow.
"OMG!" wrote Carla in the caption line. "Francis Lee is the best friend anyone can have!"
"Glad u like it! call me sometime. u know my #!" replied Francis.
Subsequent reports suggest that she did not, in fact, call him. After an investigation my Carla's bemused friends, they found that Francis had been purchasing extravagant gifts for years with the clear intent of seducing the source of his infatuation. When the screenshots of his unrequited acts of love went viral, many bitter nerds accused Carla of being clueless. Recent candid statements made to our Meme Bureau suggest otherwise.
"I know, I know. I've tried sitting him down before and explaining how I felt. But he refuses to let go. Plus, free stuff."
Each year, it's estimated that millions of dollars are spent on gifts intended to break through The Friend Zone's steely grip. Hallmark has even begun a new line of cards targeting this market--featuring clever quips such as this one:
Financial analysts predict grim consequences for the marathon woo-ers, likening the compulsive spending and need for any positive attention to a drug addict's struggle with dependency. Francis Lee sent himself into a financial and academic free-fall that ultimately lead to his academic suspension and disappearance into the solitude of his parent's home.
Self-Discovery and Deliverance
Before Howard Loftus could be drawn into the life-destroying vacuum that claimed Francis Lee, the young man decided to take action.
"I had accepted that my behavior was fine, and that the outside world was to blame for my problems," said Howard. "One day I decided that maybe, just maybe, it was all me. So I started reading."
Howard turned to his campus library and articles by sociologists and other credentialed experts to determine the nature of human relationships--and the ways in which he might be misinterpreting the language of the heart. Based on his research, Howard came up with three "Home Truths" that would redefine his perception of society.
1. "First of all, I realized that my sole motivation for being a Nice Guy was to coerce women into fulfilling my selfish desires despite having nothing to offer in return."
Many men in The Friend Zone have interests that are juvenile and unbecoming of adults. Some have no ambitions, hobbies, or obvious talents. No amount of kindness can change the fact that such a person would be a terrible parent and an unreliable provider.
What's more, their entire intention is deception and manipulation. Just as a predator might lure children into a van with the promise of candy, Nice Guys begrudgingly set aside their misanthropy to feign happiness and mental stability.
"It's cruel to subject anyone to that," said Howard. "To imply that you want to be their friend when you're just trying to exploit them. Isn't that the reason everyone hates Congressmen?"
2. "If I don't have the confidence to make my intentions clear, I have no business trying to be in a relationship."
Howard realized that, like so many others in The Friend Zone, he could never bring himself to say anything to a woman that might result in rejection.
"I didn't love myself. I hated myself, actually. If I had no interest in being near me 24-7, how could I expect anyone else to feel differently?"
Medical professionals are paid to help people become comfortable in their own skin, but the average person with no medical training can't piece your broken psyche back together. What right does anyone have to demand a stranger enrich their dull, listless existence?
"If you learn one word in your journey to know yourself, that word should be 'obligation'. The world isn't obligated to give you the things actors get on TV just for wearing the white hat and stopping the bad guys. People aren't obligated to be your friend or interact with you in any way. The world owes you nothing. Thinking otherwise can lead to dangerous and anti-social behavior."
3. "One big issue I kept running from was right there in the bathroom mirror. I was ugly. Plain and simple."
Allowing someone to become intertwined with every aspect of your life is a massive commitment that should never be taken lightly. You have to introduce this person to your parents, and then your entire family. Your friends and coworkers will see you with this person all the time. Do you want to take a man-boobed, neck-bearded man home to meet your cynical father? Do you want to take a gross chick with giant gums, a muffin top, and a mustache to dinner with your friends? I thought not.
Dating an ugly person is like running a meth empire from your basement. You can play at normalcy for awhile, you can explain away some of the weird smells that won't come out of the furniture, but eventually everyone is going to figure out that you've welcomed a very undesirable element into your life out of sheer desperation.
"I was born with a hare lip, so I can't expect anyone to want to be seen with me. And I completely understand. Looking at it from an empathetic angle, I've got no right to be mad over their rejection."
-------------------------------------------------
If you're one of those unfortunate fellows trapped in The Friend Zone, fear not! A happy life is not beyond your reach!
Shortly after our initial interview, Howard decided to become prison-gay. He met a 45-year-old bear named Hank on Craigslist, and eventually became his live-in boyfriend.
"He appreciates my youth and willingness to....try new things. I appreciate any human contact whatsoever. One hand washes the other. I'm not happy, but this is the closest I'll ever get. And you know what? That's okay. That's just okay."
"I didn't understand what I was doing wrong," said Howard. "All the movies said that the nice guy got the girl in the end, and I was the nicest guy ever. I never pressured girls, I was chivalrous, I did everything right. And all I got were friends. Not even with benefits."
Howard's situation is far from rare. Many online communities have so many nice guys bemoaning their misfortune, they have to quarantine them in into separate sub-forums--usually on the pretense of creating a separate place to discuss "Relationship Problems" or "My Little Pony Fandom". Social media has provided a never-ending stream of examples for those who find themselves fascinated with Friend Zone inhabitants. Not only was Howard aware of his status, he was well-versed on the shameful implications of his situation.
"It's like having herpes, and everyone just assume you got it from being promiscuous," said Howard. "People would come to me for computer help, or turn to me for the questions about Star Trek and Dr.Who at bar trivia nights."
Negative connotations involved with Friend Zone entrapment did not help matters. But as bad as Howard had it, many other men lived in an even grimmer district of The Friend Zone.
Self-Destruction for Seduction
Francis Lee, 22, was something of a celebrity at the famed New York University campus. The young man was wealthy beyond his years thanks to a pair of generous business mogul parents, and his grades earned him regular appearances on the Dean's List. His fame, or infamy, had nothing to do with his background or achievements. In fact, the buzz was born on Facebook.
Carla Moore's birthday brought well wishers to her Facebook page just in time to witness something few would ever forget. A photograph was posted early that morning featuring Moore posing next to a new Mercedes wrapped in a giant novelty bow.
"OMG!" wrote Carla in the caption line. "Francis Lee is the best friend anyone can have!"
"Glad u like it! call me sometime. u know my #!" replied Francis.
Subsequent reports suggest that she did not, in fact, call him. After an investigation my Carla's bemused friends, they found that Francis had been purchasing extravagant gifts for years with the clear intent of seducing the source of his infatuation. When the screenshots of his unrequited acts of love went viral, many bitter nerds accused Carla of being clueless. Recent candid statements made to our Meme Bureau suggest otherwise.
"I know, I know. I've tried sitting him down before and explaining how I felt. But he refuses to let go. Plus, free stuff."
Each year, it's estimated that millions of dollars are spent on gifts intended to break through The Friend Zone's steely grip. Hallmark has even begun a new line of cards targeting this market--featuring clever quips such as this one:
"I'm not a stalker! No, I'm not crazy! You know my number, so call me maybe!"
Financial analysts predict grim consequences for the marathon woo-ers, likening the compulsive spending and need for any positive attention to a drug addict's struggle with dependency. Francis Lee sent himself into a financial and academic free-fall that ultimately lead to his academic suspension and disappearance into the solitude of his parent's home.
Self-Discovery and Deliverance
Before Howard Loftus could be drawn into the life-destroying vacuum that claimed Francis Lee, the young man decided to take action.
"I had accepted that my behavior was fine, and that the outside world was to blame for my problems," said Howard. "One day I decided that maybe, just maybe, it was all me. So I started reading."
Howard turned to his campus library and articles by sociologists and other credentialed experts to determine the nature of human relationships--and the ways in which he might be misinterpreting the language of the heart. Based on his research, Howard came up with three "Home Truths" that would redefine his perception of society.
1. "First of all, I realized that my sole motivation for being a Nice Guy was to coerce women into fulfilling my selfish desires despite having nothing to offer in return."
Many men in The Friend Zone have interests that are juvenile and unbecoming of adults. Some have no ambitions, hobbies, or obvious talents. No amount of kindness can change the fact that such a person would be a terrible parent and an unreliable provider.
What's more, their entire intention is deception and manipulation. Just as a predator might lure children into a van with the promise of candy, Nice Guys begrudgingly set aside their misanthropy to feign happiness and mental stability.
"It's cruel to subject anyone to that," said Howard. "To imply that you want to be their friend when you're just trying to exploit them. Isn't that the reason everyone hates Congressmen?"
2. "If I don't have the confidence to make my intentions clear, I have no business trying to be in a relationship."
Howard realized that, like so many others in The Friend Zone, he could never bring himself to say anything to a woman that might result in rejection.
"I didn't love myself. I hated myself, actually. If I had no interest in being near me 24-7, how could I expect anyone else to feel differently?"
Medical professionals are paid to help people become comfortable in their own skin, but the average person with no medical training can't piece your broken psyche back together. What right does anyone have to demand a stranger enrich their dull, listless existence?
"If you learn one word in your journey to know yourself, that word should be 'obligation'. The world isn't obligated to give you the things actors get on TV just for wearing the white hat and stopping the bad guys. People aren't obligated to be your friend or interact with you in any way. The world owes you nothing. Thinking otherwise can lead to dangerous and anti-social behavior."
3. "One big issue I kept running from was right there in the bathroom mirror. I was ugly. Plain and simple."
Allowing someone to become intertwined with every aspect of your life is a massive commitment that should never be taken lightly. You have to introduce this person to your parents, and then your entire family. Your friends and coworkers will see you with this person all the time. Do you want to take a man-boobed, neck-bearded man home to meet your cynical father? Do you want to take a gross chick with giant gums, a muffin top, and a mustache to dinner with your friends? I thought not.
Dating an ugly person is like running a meth empire from your basement. You can play at normalcy for awhile, you can explain away some of the weird smells that won't come out of the furniture, but eventually everyone is going to figure out that you've welcomed a very undesirable element into your life out of sheer desperation.
"I was born with a hare lip, so I can't expect anyone to want to be seen with me. And I completely understand. Looking at it from an empathetic angle, I've got no right to be mad over their rejection."
-------------------------------------------------
If you're one of those unfortunate fellows trapped in The Friend Zone, fear not! A happy life is not beyond your reach!
Shortly after our initial interview, Howard decided to become prison-gay. He met a 45-year-old bear named Hank on Craigslist, and eventually became his live-in boyfriend.
"He appreciates my youth and willingness to....try new things. I appreciate any human contact whatsoever. One hand washes the other. I'm not happy, but this is the closest I'll ever get. And you know what? That's okay. That's just okay."
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