Append: Even huffing doesn't take away the pain of this

David Mamet's American Buffalo is enjoying an off-Broadway run (again?) at New York's Belasco Theater. Good tickets are probably still available, so, you know, whatever. Go see the play. I bet it's great. Maybe after the show you can go on a ski trip or something, you fuck.

Oh, one other thing: LOOK WHO'S IN THE FUCKING SHOW.

Jesusfuckingchrist. 

It's your Thursday afternoon cheers and jeers!

CHEERS to rock concerts that are well-conceived! 

CHEERS to tonight's twin bill featuring the The Hold Steady opening for (dramatic pause) DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS! 

CHEERS to me for buying a ticket! 

DOUBLE CHEERS to me buying for a second ticket for the cute girl who works at the coffee place by my house! 

DOUBLE CHEERS to the cute coffeeshop girl if she enjoys drinking Jim Beam from a flask that I carry in my pants!

JEERS to cute coffeeshop girl if she prefers drinking beer purchased at the concert venue!

CHEERS to some other awesome double bills!:

Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks / Radiohead

The Walkmen / The Strokes

Heartless Bastards / Lucinda Williams

The Greenhornes / The White Stripes

CHEERS to Drive-By Truckers if they play "Hell No, I Ain't Happy"!

CHEERS to Drive-By Truckers regardless!

CHEERS to Coors Light!

CHEERS to Coors Light while I'm on a break sitting on a stoop near my office!

CHEERS to functional alcoholism!

JEERS to the Nazis! I mean, what's up with Nazis!

CHEERS to readers of this blog who aren't lazy pieces of shit and who can leave a fucking comment!

JEERS to all you other fucking assholes!

Episode V, in which I criticize your new lifestyle, Vice-style

As readers of faggotblog.blogspot.com know well, my previous exercise in blogging was largely dedicated to slandering my ex-girlfriend for the mean manner in which she ended our relationship.

For those of you who weren't with us, here are those grievances again (see Faggotblog for a complete account):

1. Being hot but withholding sex all the motherfucking time

2. Peeing the bed

3. Puking the bed

4. Asking me to move to Columbus, Ohio, only to later submit to a marriage to a Pakistani man, as arranged by her parents, forcing me to move into an apartment with no air conditioning and a meth dealer upstairs

5. Being a bitch

6. Stealing my awesomest band t-shirts (Pavement, Strokes, Wilco) for sleepwear

7. Continuing to withhold sex, then getting angry when she caught me jerking off in our bed

8. Making the apartment smell like garlic and onions all the goddamn time with her shitty Pakistani cooking

9. Continuing to attend Walkmen concerts even after we broke up (I know they're an awesome band; WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I LISTEN TO THEM?)

10. Refusing to separate my white and dark laundry, thereby making my whites appear din in certain lights

11. Not permitting me to watch any sport other than soccer in the house, even the Cincinnati Reds, you goddamn fucking bitch

Before the demise of Faggotblog, I assumed that I would end things by posting pictures of Saleha's wedding, which were generously provided some time ago by my friend Cool Dave, and criticizing them in my traditional, bitter way. For whatever reason I never got around to it, and I quite honestly forgot about the pictures until the other day.

Here, though, straight from my iPhoto album, are photos from the most blessed wedding of Saleha and Nadeer Khan. If nothing else, they serve to demonstrate that non-American weddings are really fucking weird.


The wedding party! What a beautiful family. See the guy in the suit, second from the left? That's Saleha's brother. He has rage problems and had to undergo court-ordered anger management. That's his wife on the left. I guarantee you that she has been hit for talking out of turn.

And then there's the bride, resplendent in orange. Lovely! Hey Nadeer, here's a tip: she will fake pregnancy at least once for every time you come inside her. If you don't like twice-hourly phone calls at work, PULL THE FUCK OUT.

Hey, and there's the happy couple! Quick joke: Saleha's new husband walks into a bar. Bartender says, "Why the long face?"

HIYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Here's a cute shot: the newlyweds in a lighter, casual moment. Not too close, you too! No touching!

Except, wait: is that how Saleha dresses nowadays when she's being casual? In a sari-type thing? Yeah? Oh, okay. I guess I was just expecting something more like this:


Or this:


Get fucked, Mrs. Khan.

My dog's online dating profile

Weird.


Name: Madeline W. (New York, NY)

Mood: Horny ;)

Nicknames: Maddy, Black Thing, BT1, The Girl, Little, Muppet, Muppet Baby, Sam the Eagle, Burden, Sugar, Sugar Pie, Sugar Plum, Honey Pie, Honey Bear, Fruit of the Loins, Jew Baby

Age: 4 human (28 dog)

Sex: female

Interested in: men, women

Looking for: dating; activity partners; NSA encounters; long-term relationships

Religious views: Norse

Karaoke song: "Louie Louie," The Kingsmen

Interests: intimidation scenarios; j-offs; newsie roleplay; African-American erotica

About me: No last names.

Get fucked, Haley Joel Osment

As an ongoing service to its readers, BLOG!!!!!!1!1!!!!! will identify people and things that should just go ahead and get fucked. Today's subject: Haley Joel Osment.

One day a few months ago I was walking my dog on 6th Avenue. (Note: "walking my dog" is not a euphemism for masturbation.) It was around 7:30 on a Monday, and I had just treated myself to a few glasses of chardonnay from the Food Emporium. This is not uncommon for a Monday.

 

As we crossed 6th Avenue, Madeline and I passed child actor-turned-creepy grownup Haley Joel Osment, star of such contemporary epics as Secondhand Lions and Pay It Forward. It was a real thrill, because it's not every day that you get to see a washed-up child actor (and convicted DUI offender!) walking the streets of New York with his boyfriend. Maddy could barely contain her excitement. Not only is she is a huge M. Night Shyamalan fan, but she also really likes boys who like boys. And believe me, Haley Joel Osment straight loves boys.

Haley Joel Osment took immediate notice of me and Maddy as well. In fact, he stopped mid-stride to make the following observation of my beautiful dog:

"That dog is weird looking."

Huh. Well, thanks, Haley Joel Osment! Thanks for taking the time to drop that one on us! If I may, I'd like to offer a multi-point response. May I? Thank you:

1. Have you looked in the mirror? You look like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button incarnate, you fucking crazy-eyed gnome. Nice highlights.

2. I see that you are wearing a Boston Red Sox hat. Given that you are an asshole, this does not surprise me. However, why are you wearing a Boston Red Sox hat? After all, your Wikipedia bio lists Los Angeles as your hometown. Shouldn't you be wearing a Dodgers hat or Angels hat? The only logical conclusion I can draw from your hat choice is that you're a fairweathered piece of shit who has gotten caught up in the renaissance of cute that has befallen the Boston Red Sox since 2004. For this, you are a fucking fag. I would also wager that you don't know the first fucking thing about baseball, and that Alex Rodriguez is your favorite player. Again, you = fag.

3. Maddy is fucking beautiful. Way more beautiful than your little man-whore suckoff toy. What's his name? I'm guessing it's Ryan or Jason or Shane. Is it any of these? No? Well, whatever. May your first child be a masculine child, bonerlicker.

Of course, I did not say any of these things, because I was drunk. Instead, I did something far less clever: I yelled somewhat incoherently.

"THANK YOU VERY MUCH, HALEY JOEL OSMENT! I SEE ASSHOLES, HALEY JOEL OSMENT! HEY, DID EVERYONE SEE HALEY JOEL OSMENT HERE? HE'S RIGHT HERE! HE WAS IN THE SIXTH SENSE! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH, HALEY JOEL OSMENT?"

See what I did there? I embarrassed him with topical movie references. It's like my grandpa always said: if you can't beat them, you should belittle them with topical references to their careers as child actors. Also, never trust Pakistani men with your money. THEY WILL STEAL IT.

In conclusion, Haley Joel Osment can get fucked.

Get fucked, David Mamet

As an ongoing service to its readers, BLOG!!!!!!1!1!!!!! will identify people and things that should just go ahead and get fucked. Today's subject: David Mamet.



David Mamet can go fuck himself.

David Mamet is a prolific writer. By that I mean that David Mamet writes a lot of plays and movies. What I do not mean is that David Mamet writes a lot of good plays and movies. In fact, David Mamet's plays and movies uniformly fucking suck.

From what I understand, it is considerably easier to write lots of plays and movies when all of your plays and movies fucking suck. This fact should be printed on David Mamet's business cards.

Every month, when David Mamet releases his latest piece of shit play or movie, one of my asshole friends will say, "Hey! Do you want to go see the new David Mamet?"

My answer: fuck no I do not want to go see the new David Mamet. David Mamet is the worst thing since 9/11. (Ironically, lots of people in New York really like David Mamet. I refer to these people as "jerks," or sometimes "jerkheads.")

David Mamet, who sucks, owes me $17.50. Here is an itemization for that fuckface and his moneygrubbing accountants:

1. $3.50 for Blockbuster rental of Glengarry Glen Ross in 1996
2. $12.00 for one movie ticket to see Red Belt in 2008
3. $2.00 for Fandango fees for the aforementioned Red Belt screening

Please remit payment by mail, you fucking moneystealing vagina.

(Red Belt, by the way, is a lumpy puddle of ejaculate harvested from a red-assed Mongoloid sloth. David Mamet apparently got tired of writing after a few hours, so he just ended the movie without actually resolving anything. Innovative!)

In conclusion, David Mamet can get fucked.

Blog!!!!!!1!1!!!!!!! Mailbag: Halloween Edition!

Dear Phil,

Why do you hate Halloween so much?

Steve F.

Bed-Stuy

Stevesy,

Because it is the most annoying night of the year. (Note: Gay Pride Day is a day, not a night.) If I wanted to wade through a sea of white trash chicks dressed in sexy cat costumes, I'd go to my stepmom's house. Thanks for writing!

Warmly,

Phil

Dear Phil,

That's so gay...anywhere you go there will be slutty girls looking to get laid. They don't even care, they just want you to play the game.

Steve F. 
Bed-Stuy

Steve-o,

What is this game you speak of? Please tell me it involves a belt and a lime wedge.

Fondly,

Phil

Dear Phil,

You're fine at playing the game, you're just not willing to do it...for example, not going to parties with chicks because you "don't like Halloween"? Halloween's awesome! It's the last day of the year that chicks willingly wear only their underwear. They just want you to put yourself out there in the same way they did. That's literally it. You could wear Groucho Marx glasses and still be knee-deep in it. 

Steve F.

Bed-Stuy

Stevarino,

No offense, but you're coming off a little gay here. Maybe wait until you get home before you start rubbing one out, huh? Thanks for reading!

Best,

Phil

Be sure to submit questions for the next edition of Blog!!!!!!1!1!!!!!!! Mailbag! Thanks for reading!