Posted on 11:14 PM by Tony Spunk
Some of y'all might notice that we've just had the Miss America pageant here in Funky Town. Who knew that crap still went on in this day and age? People still watch Miss America? Didn't that die out in the 70s with disco balls and sausages on cocktail sticks?
Anyway, I swear I'm still seeing black spots from being temporarily blinded by the eye melting glare from the sheen on Mario Lopez's hair as he drove down the Strip looking like a cross between a Hispanic gang member and a boy who spends his downtime salivating over other oiled up pretty boys doing abs exercises. I have a friend Jaime, who also prefers the sweaty touch of a gent over a sweet lady's caress and Jaime reliably informs me that Mario might not know he's a friend of Judy, but it's just a matter of time, that they all come round in the end. Jaime knows about these things. Gay dudes just have that sense where they can sniff a guy with an unsual spring in his step from a whole state away. Jaime practically had one of those never-ending boners they warn you about in Viagra commercials, for the last week because that tall flaming fellow from "What Not To Wear" was going to be there.
Anyway yeah, Miss America. Lots of half anorexic chicks with spray tans and big white gnashers parading around in swimwear and answering questions in a highly entertaining manner, like:
Host: Are you looking forward to the International Pageant Ball in Helsinki this summer?
Miss X: (clapping) Oh yes! I just love Sweden!
Those chicks are pretty and all but there's just nothing to get a hold of. You try bending one of those the wrong way and it'll break like a big old pretzel! Only with a tiny vagina somewhere in the middle. Plus how much stamina can a lady who only eats a carrot and a yogurt a day, have? Eat ladies. Eat!
So yeah, I pretty much stayed away from downtown the past few days to avoid the entourage of poseurs who inevitably show up around these events, yuppifying everything and saying things to me like, "Yeah, can you get me a chocolate Martini in a chilled glass, thanks." because they're too dumb to know I'm not a waiter, I'm a sparkly entertaining guy in a sixty dollar bow tie who was trying to have a quiet Martini and instead is now going to steal their drinks and seduce their wives, with my Tom Selleck eyebrow-limbo-dance, for revenge.
In other words, nothing much to report this week, except is it normal to get a hair on your nipple? I mean I'm a pretty hirsute guy but this lady I know, Alice, may or may not have this problem. Come to think of it, she sort of has an Adam's Apple too. And huge feet.