Things I Never Expected To Say Vol. 32: I Agree With Don Lemon (?)

I like to imagine that all the opinions I hold about people are stored in a single, dusty file cabinet that looks like it was bought at Office Max during a clearance sale in 1995. Each cabinet holds hundreds of alphabetically organized manilla folders whose contents contain my thoughts on a myriad of different things. Under the letter 'A", you'll find 'Adam Sandler: A Living Argument For Forced Retirement (Or, push comes to shove, euthanasia.) Under 'B' you'll most like find 'Butthair Shaving and How To Avoid The Brown Ring Of Pain.' And so on, but I've always considered the manilla folder in which I hold all opinions about Don Lemon to be as concise as it was unfavorable. Which is to say that it is essentially a simple statement reading "Glad to see a black man on air in a predominately white industry but (and this is a Nicki Minaj's ass 2 days after injections sized BUT) his unceasing side-hustle as devil's advocate combined with his Instagram thirst trap level of fame whoring had made the man as unpalatable as jerk chicken prepared in a Mormon household."

I remained steadfast in my avoidance in headlines that contained his name like most people avoid debit cards that contain Russell Simmons'. And this has served me well for longer than I have the ability to recall right now because, well, I've been hitting the Fruit By The Foot and Hennessey pretty hard the last few hours. Lately, though, I've noticed....

Don Lemon will boss up on a bitch in a Facebook minute.

Gotta say, much like a Trump presidency and any combination of food from CookOut that doesn't immediately have you googling legitimate exorcists that specialize in haunted toilets, I didn't see this coming. But so far I've been absolutely tickled negro at the combative incisiveness Don Lemon has exhibited himself to have in the shadow of President Orange Julius. Incisiveness that has done much to, well, not actually do anything to diminish the unceasing campaign of low-expectation, dime-store coonery he's been waging all these years, but enough to at least get me to crane my head over to a TV with CNN on the background with an expression of wonder because I have no fucking idea what it looks like when I see this man doing his job.

The latest instance of this occurred during a discussion panel of talking heads covering the used condom placed in America's can of Mountain Dew that is the Trump presidency. The bell tolled for thee when expired deli meat at a white supremacist potluck Jefferey Lord described President Donald Trump as the "Martin Luther King of health care" which, as grossly misrepresentative of MLK and outright insulting to his legacy as it is, what does that actually mean? Like in real life and shit? Was Dr. King's I Have A Dream speech in reality about lower compound percentages when factoring the cost of generic prescription drugs for a chronic illness? Was his March on Washington, in fact, a metaphor for the unnecessary amount of steps it takes to find a primary care physician? When he was beaten to within an each of his life by police and even civilians who, in that era, could be accurately described as 'mildly casual racists", was it part of a guerilla advertising campaign aimed at showing consumers what a 'beating' they took on monthly premiums?

Maybe.

Then again, definitely not.

Despite Jeffrey Lord handing the entire CNN panel a solid legal defense of "The Nigga Had It Coming," they used their intellectual acumen and words to dress this man down like Cinderella at Neiman Marcus when the credit cards get declined. I expected this from the other pundits, but not Don Lemon (See: thirstiness mentioned above and/or dime store coonery.) Either way, I'm here for it, and as glad as I am to have consensus with Don, I'll still be watching with some degree of suspicion waiting for him to turn like the tuna casserole at a strip club buffet.

The Fuck Just Happened? Hey! Hey! Did That Fucking Bridge Fucking Disintegrate!?!

What the fuck?!?

Like, what the-fu-shit, really?

How the fuck does that happen with Bruce Banner nowhere near the thing?

It collapsed?!? A motherfucking bridge just fucking collapsed?

Jenga towers collapse. Sandcastles collapse. Sexless marriages collapse.

Not a fucking bridge carrying hundreds of thousands of commuters with no plans on being in a direct-to-video Micheal Bay movie. Sending plumes of smoke and fire that look like drones carpet bombing a segment of land in front of Piedmont or if Nicki Minaj decided to burn just one of her flammable neon weaves. What kind of pavement smiting C-list supervillain decided to mix Pop Rocks and Diet Coke. Who makes a bridge with less structural integrity than wet panties in the bathroom sink. A state (apparently under)funded bridge withered faster than Donald trump's erection on the rare occasion his wife expresses verbal consent. I just watched an entire section of interstate crumble faster Drake whenever one of his ghostwriters put Kendrick on the car radio.

How in Paula Deen's Coon Creamery does this happen with no state official going on live television and committing ritual seppuku only after ingesting a damp bag of seasoned nipples as an apology? Is this what we can expect in the Age of Trump? State infrastructure doing their best impersonation of a Samsung phone the same day Bubbles from The Wire turns snitch on Trump?

No, Just no, Atlanta. Put your dick back in your corduroys and clean yourself up. You're embarrassing us.

#SheAintGotNoWorries: Trust Me, Tomi Lahren Is Going To Be Fine.

Earlier last week, multiple news outlets announced that following her appearance on The View, Miss Stormfront 2016 Tomi Lahren had been suspended from her show due to her voicing her support for a woman's right to abortion, or as it's known by street hooligans and other social deviants who can't afford health care or their own HBO GO password (looking at you, Greg), Pro-Choice.

Or as most conservatives know it: Snowflake Liberal Immigrant Baby Murder

Like most seemingly innocuous news stories has the potential to bring out the random bursts of "Got ya bitch!" at their laptop screen while in the middle of their neighborhood soy-only conflict free coffee bean cafe, a lot of people have voiced their opinion. On the right, it's pretty much boilerplate indignation and pseudo-sanctimony usually reserved for when politicians surprisingly put party over religion or when your daughter brings her new boyfriend, Carlos, to Christmas dinner. (you know Mee Maw has a heart condition, Stacy!!). On the left, we have...well, remember when they announced the OJ verdict, and you had to reconcile your moral convictions on how murder is bad but you also finally go to see white people take the long dick of a justice system specifically designed for them to prosper within? Yeah, most people support what should be the inalienable right of a woman's choice but, karmically, fuck that lady. It's my professional opinion that her life be filled only with Starbucks lattes made with soy instead of almond milk out of spite and prominent speaking engagements at conservative functions but with the caveat of having an out of shape, male conservative pundit judge whether or not she's pretty enough to go on stage and speak her mind.

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"I would expound upon my thoughts further, but Glenn Beck just informed me that my lady parts attract wild bears and, well, I'm afraid I must cut this short."

Not unlike choosing between enjoying an all you can eat crab leg buffet at the seafood spot and responding to your mom's urgent texts about meeting at the hospital because your idiot brother is dying and you're the only one with the same blood type as him, it's a complicated position to be in. She's the ideological concepts of privilege, class warfare, and the right amount of foundation to put on your face before you look like a Hayao Miyazaki anime character personified. Her entire schtick boils down to saying heinous things in support of heinous people and causes that evoke such horrendous emotional reactions from the general public that only serves to raise her profile even further. In light of this veritable Chuck E Cheese of diagnosable personality disorders and generic brand shittery, most people are kind of stoked she finally got reprimanded by the semen and chicken grease-stained hand that feeds her. All this despite the fact that the words that instigated all of this just happens to be the one ephemeral lint of empathy on her cardigan of fuckshit that has inherent empathy. All this being said, you and both know......

She's going to be okay.

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Only someone who hasn't had their extensions snatched out by someone who recognized them in a Publix parking lot makes those hand gestures. life has been kind to her.

America always has a bug out bunker in place for famous white people who've temporarily run afoul of not so famous white people. This is neither the end of Tomi Lahren nor a particularly damaging blow to her career. In fact, considering how tirelessly she's been blanketing my Facebook feed for the last two years like nazi-apologist pollen on your Subaru, she's probably long overdue for a vacation. I wouldn't be surprised if she's reading all of these stories about her (that still keep her SEO and Q-ratings up, mind you.) from the comfort of her counterintuitively designed Tuscan Leather beach chair, drinking a Bahama Mama delivered to her by a Hawaiian valet named Charles that she's already decided to call Oriental Joe.

Strong intel says every asian sex buddy she has in her phone is listed as 'Pho King.'

Fully expect her to pull a Taylor Swift by laying low for a few months only to reemerge, like a Class- Warfare Pheonix, in some new position with even higher soul-rendering compensation. (By the way, have you ever seen Tomi Lahren and Taylor Swift in the same room together?#staywoke). Don't believe me? Cool. Ask Paula Deen how she's doing nowadays. That is, assuming you can find her in her palatial southern estate that regularly hosts civil war reenactments corrected for historical (read: Confederate Wet Dream) accuracy. Mel Gibson? In a Jew hating hot air balloon composed entirely out of selective amnesia and praise from his colleagues. And so many countless others that go beyond the capacity of my soul's ability not to implode. So go ahead and get your yucks in now, vindicated progressives. But remember, if the last year has taught us anything, it's that ignorance always finds a way inside.

From Russia, With Obvious Signs Of Electoral Tampering

Yesterday, news broke that the FBI has gathered evidence that associates of sentient Diva Cup prototype President Donald Trump colluded with suspected Russian operatives to possibly sabotage Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign. To this news I say, this is progress. Progress in the sense that an arrogant and impossibly entitled rich white man had to collude with foreign agents to place himself in a position he naturally assumed would be his due, in no small part, to every instance of recorded history that validated the notion. If only Martin Luther King could be alive today to sagely utter "He look like half a cassava melon with a dick hole in it." He sure does, Dr. King. He sure does. DailyKos Reports:

The FBI is now reviewing that information, which includes human intelligence, travel, business and phone records and accounts of in-person meetings, according to those U.S. officials. The information is raising the suspicions of FBI counterintelligence investigators that the coordination may have taken place, though officials cautioned that the information was not conclusive and that the investigation is ongoing.

The obvious questions this information would invoke would, I believe, include: What associates of President Trump communicated with Russian agents and in what capacity were they a part of his team? Can whoever sanction their illicit activities be traced back to the president himself? If this results in an impeachment proceeding, would his entire cabinet be called into question considering this latest news is one of a string of proposed investigations and resignations in regards to Trump's staff picks and appointments? Lastly, how inept do you have to be at political subterfuge if you completely butt fuck an operation headed by the General Palpatine of Stalin-esque shady shit, Vladimir Putin himself? Those questions aside, if this whole bouquet of fuckery doesn't become a movie soon then I will lose all faith in God, cinema, and humanity's ability to recognize goddamn genius ideas. Here, lemme help you with the ending.

INT. OVAL OFFICE- DAY

TIGHT on the shoulder of now former PRESIDENT TRUMP. He looks resigned as he stands alone in a room blanketed in darkness except for the little light the peeks out from the curtains behind him.

PRESIDENT TRUMP

(sad but all douchey-like)

I guess this is it. Who could've seen this coming? Aside from anyone who's ever heard me speak in the last 70 years and Voodoo-enchanted magic 8 balls, of course. Now that the impeachment is all but done, all that's left for me to do is face the American people one last time before sequestering myself in one of my many palatial estates. (chuckles) Heh, at least I still have my money. Well, that and uncomfortably long hugs with Ivanka.

PRESIDENT TRUMP begins to walk toward the open door that leads out of the OVAL OFFICE, but suddenly the door starts to slowly shut in front of him. As the door closes, it reveals none other than HILLARY (MOTHERFUCKING) CLINTON herself.

HILLARY (YOU SHOULD KNOW MY FUCKING NAME) CLINTON

(Cocky like she just fucked your moms in the backseat of your Ford Explorer)

The fuck you is, you rape-fingered yuck-mouthed bitch.

RAPE-FINGERED YUCK-MOUTHED BITCH

My arch nemesis! What're you doing here!?! In fact, don't answer! Just leave now and I won't have to call security to grab you and toss you out on your ass in front of everyone!

HILLARY (STEP ON YOUR BRAND NEW FILAS AT THE CLUB AND NOT GIVE ONE FUCK) CLINTON

(laughs softly to herself cause she know she got the drop on dude and he ain't gonna see the merc coming)

Grab me and toss me out, huh? We both know how fond you are of grabbing things you have no business grabbing, huh, Donald?

Well, Donald. I'm sorry to say that this time....

She slowly lifts her arm to reveal the gun she's holding as she points it directly at PRESIDENT FUCKFACE.

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...the pussy's gonna grab back.

BAM!!

(You're welcome Oscars/Netflix/Crackle)
                 

 

Bundle of Joy or Excuses To Further Avoid Kim and Kanye?

As the prophecies of the Children of Destiny have foretold, the Lord has seen fit to grant upon us not only one BeyBey, but two BeyBeys. Upon seeing the announcement in an Instagram post that had all the trappings of sexual role-play centered around the Legend of Zelda, the world rejoiced because there was now a ray of light in these dark times. This is now the 2nd year in a row that Beyonce has taken it upon herself to uplift black history month and, unfortunately for Michelle and...the other one, further cement the harsh reality that she will never be available for a Destiny's Child reunion.

Never.

For Never Never?

For Never Never.

Is this Destiny's Child or a failed UPN sitcom? I'm seriously asking.

However, there is a rarely mentioned bright side to this pregnancy other than The Carters providing Black America with its very own Song of Ice and Fire. (Jay-Z, as per every one of his songs before 2011, provided the Ice and Beyonce, as per damn near every video she's ever been in, is probably a serial arsonist.) That benefit being that, for The Carters, they now have another, albeit entirely credible reason, to further limit exposure to the Faustian ass empire that is the Kardashians. Specifically, Kanye "Everything I've Said Would Make Sense If I Were A Bond Villain" West and Kim "Better People Have Died Trying To Figure Out What I Do For A Living" Kardashian. There's only so many times Bey can politely turn down mimosas and bleached butthole Saturdays before she has to take some drastic measures. Here are just a few of the excuses The Carters have used in their efforts to not have a film crew so far up their asses they'll stain the camera lens everytime they fart.

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She goes out of her way to insert the word "crazy" into as many songs as she can and makes videos that feature fire enough times for it to have its own SAG card. Why aren't police questioning this woman!?!

  • "What had happened was, Blue was playing around with my laptop and, yadda yadda yadda, now I'm enrolled at the University of Pheonix, and these Pythagorean's aren't gonna theory themselves sooooo......"
  • "Sorry, Kim. Afraid I can't go with you and the fam to search trap houses and Magic City to find Lamar, again. Me and Oprah just bought a Sbarro franchise, and we gotta make sure they get the ricotta cheese to sauce ratio right."
  • " Ooooh, sorry to have to cancel, but Gwyneth recently power steamed her vagina, and now I have to drive her to her physician's so he can install a backup vagina. I know, I know, I told her the steamer setting was way too high."
  • "I would love to come to Kanye's Taiwanese Sweatshop Seminar/ Yeezus Is Jeezus listening party but, unfortunately, it looks like there's an Electrobuzz in a 10-mile radius around me and you know I've been trying to get me one of those for months girl. Gotta get my Raichu leveled-up, tho."
  • "Promised Rihanna I'd talk to Drake about all the Google+ messages he keeps sending her. It might take a while."
  • "Shit, I'd love to sit on the hood of your limo eat paninis while parked outside of a homeless shelter with you and Kylie, but I told Michelle and Barack I was gonna spend tonight with them prank calling Melania. Uh huh. Yeah. Nothing serious.We just call her a "broke ass White Walker" or " Ground-Zero Barbie" then hang up. Okay. Raincheck."
  • "Shit, girl, I can't tonight. Jay-Z fucked some other bitch so now I gotta record an audio and visual album that chronicles my introspective journey. Then there's gonna be a whole press release thing, touring, intimidating White America at the Superbowl and, damn, I may be tied up for a long time."
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