The bad news is that the guest bloggers are not international supermodel Phoebe Price and her sidekick dog Henry. Chicken Cutlets’ daily schedule is already filled to the top with risking her life (if she queefed, that 76 would explode into the heavens) by posing with a gas pump at various Los Angeles-area gas stations. The good news is that the guest bloggers are two Dlisted commenters! But before we get into introductions, let me explain myself.
This week, my mom and auntie are visiting all the way from California. My mom has been to New York a million times and her idea of a vacation is sitting on my couch while lecturing me on everything from my diet (“You should drink grape seed extract in distilled water instead of sugar milk with a splash of Sanka in the morning“) to my exercise regime (“You should walk on the treadmill 20 minutes a day instead of walking your fat, bloated fingers along the remote for 4 hours a night!”) Yes, my mother’s dream in life is to be Dr. Oz’s assistant of the day. Anyway, that’s my mom’s idea of a dream vacation, but thankfully for me it’s not my auntie’s.
My auntie wants to see all the shit that the tourists want to see. And I’ve agreed to be her guide! You know, because I’m so good at that. I’m so good at standing in a crowded elevator at the Empire State Building and loudly saying: “I’ve lived in New York City for almost 10 years and I’ve never been to the Empire State Building! Isn’t that funny. Again, I’ve lived here for TEN WHOLE YEARS. A DECADE. That’s 3,650 days if you aren’t familiar with the years measurement. Isn’t that crazy? Living in New York City, New York for TEN YEARS and never going to places that only tourists who don’t live in New York City, New York go! You know, because I’m not a tourist so it would kind of stupid for me to go to tourist places without relatives like you who are tourists. Oh, is that my phone ringing? It’s probably my New York City accountant who is calling to remind me to pay my New York State taxes next April because I’m a resident of New York City.”
So yeah, I’ll be doing a lot of that and won’t be covering the status of Kim Kardashian’s bleached asshole as much. But fear fucking not, two escapees from the Dlisted comment asylum will have you covered! And they are:
Sweetas – Sweetas in Latin does not stand for “sweet ass” as you might expect. It stands for “pickled anus,” because she’s as funny as she is drunk.
Jack-N-The-Hat – Jack hails to us from the wonderful state of The Fuck If I Know. Jack’s Dlisted name always reminds me of Jack in the Box, which reminds me of a Sourdough Jack. And just like a Sourdough Jack, this Jack is full of processed meat, covered in bread and will give you the hard shits if you swallow him too fast. But Jack is the classier Jack in the Box, because he’s got a hat instead of a box. If your pussy is too good, refer to it as a “hat” instead of a “box.” The term “box” is only reserved for bougie pussies.
Sweetas and Jack be here all week! I’ll also be posting in the morning and sometimes throughout the day, but they’ll cover most of the hard hitting stories (see: Kim Kardashian’s bleached asshole). Please give them the love and respect you give me on a daily basis. And yes, by “love and respect,” I mean a lot of boos, made up coupons for Grammar School and pictures of kittens and peens (But not pictures of kitten peens, because that would just be over the line! Or would it?).