Category: Guest Bloggers
Programming Note: Welcome Dlisted’s Holiday Guest Bloggers
No, one of them is not Mimi. Although…. if you down an entire bottle of cotton candy vodka and chase it with a bottle of bubbles before beating yourself in the head with a plastic unicorn horn, J. Harvey does sort of look like Mimi in the right light.
Mimi is spreading the holiday cheese in Aspen by posing like this and that means it’s Christmas times again. In my family, we don’t give each other gifts, because we’re all really lazy and shopping takes effort. So instead of doing that, we go on trips together during the holidays and give each other the priceless gift of verbally judging each other’s life choices while sitting in the middle of a hotel restaurant. This year, we’re going to my mom’s timeshare in Hawaii and I know it’s going to be weird, because timeshare people are the weirdest.
So since I’ll be busy hopping to other timeshares to sit through a 6 hour-long presentation for a free breakfast (a $12 value!), Dlisted’s resident guest bloggers Sweetas, J. Harvey and Lahoma will be helping me out. Starting on Sunday, Lahoma will take over Hot Slut of the Day and Sweetas, J. Harvey and I will post throughout the day. There won’t be any Caption This contests during that time. I’ll be back full-time on January 3rd.
And I promise that while I’m in Hawaii, I’ll keep the jokes about getting lei’d to a minimum. Probably not.
PROGRAMMING NOTE: It’s Moving Day For My Ass
Today is the day I say goodbye to the bodega bitch who always calls me “ma’m” (Not even “miss!” That burns.) and to the family of crackheads who always hang at my old subway stop and once called me a “cheap fag” for giving them a dollar. I will miss them all! So I’m moving out of Brooklyn and making my way back to the land of Angelyne, smog and jorts with UGGs today. I have to stop in Michigan first, because it’s always been one of my life goals to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. No, I’m going for family shit… and to take a picture next to an Adopt a Crackhead sign. I’ll be in Michigan until Sunday, so now all you Angelen-hos know in advance that a stage 1 trash alert will be issued when my stank ass lands.
Because I’ll be busy getting drunk on Hopslam in Michigan and trying to get a car in L.A. (please tell me they still sell Pintos), one of my partners in spreading fuckery, Sweetas, is going to guest blog and help me out until Monday. I’ll be back full-time on Tuesday after I wake up from my Hopslam and In-N-Out coma.
And moving would be so much better if I could just throw all my stuff on Liev Schreiber’s front box and then jump on that child seat behind him. Take me to the Double Double, Liev!
Open Post & Programming Note: Co-Hosted By Josh Hopkins & James Marsden
Because getting two teeth pulled out of my skull a few days ago wasn’t enough, I’m going in for more dental work in a quick minute. My dentist says this work is going to take a long ass while, because my mouth is a mess. (“You need to stop brushing with dirty dicks.” – you “I wish” – me) Since we’re on the topic of messes, while I stare deep into the nostrils of a dentist, J. Harvey will fill in for me this afternoon by posting a couple or 3 posts. I’ll be back later to do Crumbs. And then after I do Crumbs, I’m going to reenact the “I’ll nevah let go!” scene from Titanic with my bong and a bottle of booze, because I’ve been told to stay away from smoking and drinking. My dentist hates me so and has a good way of showing it.
And here’s Josh Hopkins from Cougartown and James Marsden sunning their man pecs in Hawaii. I don’t know if they’re on the same beach, but I do know that they need to touch nipples in front of a camera at some point during their vacation.
Programming Note: J. Harvey’s Back!
Since J. Harvey is a certified drunk mess, I felt it was only fitting to announce his triumphant return with these pictures of Our Patron Saint of Patron, Kate Moss, trying to figure out how “this walking thing” works while leaving a Mexican restaurant in London with her husband Count Von Count last night. But before I get into Drunk Ass Kate being Drunk Ass Kate….
One of the more reliable voices in my head tells me that the sanctity of marriage will receive a flaming breath of life this weekend when the most gorgeous ginger lesbian on every planet Rojo Caliente marries Cynthia Nixon. So because of this, I’m going to spend my entire Memorial Day Weekend throwing confetti made of double pleated Dockers in the streets to celebrate the greatest ROYAL GINGER LESBIAN WEDDING OF OUR TIME! No, I won’t be doing that, but I did hear that a Rojo Caliente wedding might be upon us soon, so gird your souls! My mom is in town, so my sister and I will be spending our Memorial Day Weekend fighting with each other in various restaurants around the city. While I do that, J. Harvey will be spreading the foolery on Dlisted starting today through Monday. I’ll still be posting sporadically (file that under: smart words I learned while watching Clueless) throughout the weekend, so you haven’t completely gotten rid of me. I’ll be back full-time on Tuesday where we’ll continue to investigate the mysteries of dick cheese, etc…
And now, here’s Kate Moss threatening all of us with a good time by leaving her fly open while leaving that Mexican restaurant. I don’t know if that peep show sign is just a decoration to make that place look edgy or if there’s a porn store next door, but I sort of like the idea of a Mexican restaurant/sex store. Yes, it would smell like a donkey show star’s fart, but I’ve smelled worse in the subway during August. I mean, when you’re jacking off in a sex store, don’t you really wish that you had a bowl of refried beans in your other hand? Hold the queso blanco.
Programming Note: The Return Of J. Harvey
Before I get into these pictures of Prince Hot Ginge and some girl giving us the drunk trash version of Romeo & Juliet, I have some quick site news. J. Harvey, who with Sweetas guest blogged on Dlisted during Christmastimes while I was busy dining at the finest Olive Gardens in Rome, is helping me out until Monday so that I can dine at the finest Olive Gardens in California. It’s my last weekend in California with my mom and we’re going to party hard (aka get drunk on grocery store wine under an umbrella in the backyard after going to Trader Joe’s for a full lunch of free samples).
J. Harvey was nice enough to take time out from weeping on the curb in front of a Boston gay bar after getting kicked out for eating all the toppings on the complimentary baked potato bar (not a euphemism). My ass is still going to post regularly every day, but J. Harvey will be here to lighten the load (not like that). I’ll be back full-time on Tuesday and then I’ll be back in NYC on Saturday, so every whore in Brooklyn should enjoy the skank-free air while they still can. Now on to PHG….
PHG partied at the Brompton Club in London last night and the paparazzi held on to the roof gutters to get a picture of him talking to some drunk ass tramp in a dirty alley. PHG sure has a thing for those stringy ass blondes who look like they can’t handle their booze. How does this happen, though? If it only takes a hot fag to get PHG into a stank alley, then light me on fire and kick me between two buildings.
Sweetas In Shocking Porn Video!
Okay, not really, but I know what will make you sluts sit up and take notice! If I had written “Signing Off” or some lame shit like that, you would have yawned, farted, scratched your ass and continued eating nachos in yesterday’s t-shirt. Or maybe that’s just me and I’m giving away too much personal information.
Anygettothefuckingpointsweetas, I just wanted to say thanks to Michael K’s Wild Kingdom for allowing him a little break and for choking down my unsalted cracker posts for a week. King MK will be back soon, sporting his beautiful bedazzled tin-foil and garland crown and pink-ribboned Princess Barbie scepter and showing the blogosphere how shit is done RIGHT.
Seriously, I had SO much fun and was proud to be in the company of J. Harvey and Lahoma, both of whom I would love to see next time Michael takes a well-deserved vacation. Now it’s time to say goodbye, and go back to my basement desk and 10-key (glamorous, I know) and flask hidden in the top drawer so I can stomach my real life job. Thank you again, and now I’m off to work on welcoming 2012 with a scorching hangover, missing underwear and no recollection of the nights events (Godsend, that guy looked like a cracked-out Gollum and had a micro-peen) like the rest of you beautiful people. Sweetas OUT!