BREAKING: Morrissey Still Hates The British Royals

If you were hoping that during the Spice Girls’ performance at the Olympics closing ceremony on Sunday night, Morrissey and The Queen will come out holding hands to shake their titties around Posh Spice, I’ve got news for you, it’s not going to happen. Morrissey is still a lump of glum and he would rather have a threesome with Diana Ross and Steve Wonder in China than spend another minute putting his eyes on the Olympic coverage. Morrissey went on his site and rage typed out a long rant on the Olympics even though he totally doesn’t watch the Olympics. Since this Morrissey we’re talking about, he obviously threw in a Nazi reference.

And, yet! I am unable to watch the Olympics due to the blustering jingoism that drenches the event. Has England ever been quite so foul with patriotism? The “dazzling royals” have, quite naturally, hi-jacked the Olympics for their own empirical needs, and no oppositional voice is allowed in the free press. It is lethal to witness. As London is suddenly promoted as a super-wealth brand, the England outside London shivers beneath cutbacks, tight circumstances and economic disasters. Meanwhile the British media present 24-hour coverage of the “dazzling royals”, laughing as they lavishly spend, as if such coverage is certain to make British society feel fully whole. In 2012, the British public is evidently assumed to be undersized pigmies, scarcely able to formulate thought.
As I recently drove through Greece I noticed repeated graffiti seemingly everywhere on every available wall. In large blue letters it said WAKE UP WAKE UP. It could almost have been written with the British public in mind, because although the spirit of 1939 Germany now pervades throughout media-brand Britain, the 2013 grotesque inevitability of Lord and Lady Beckham (with Sir Jamie Horrible close at heel) is, believe me, a fate worse than life. WAKE UP WAKE UP.

I don’t know why, but to me “jingoism” sounds like a condition when a dude’s jizz is so coagulated that it won’t come out of his peen hole.

Morrissey is telling lies, he’s telling lies! That human black cloud is hooked on the Olympics. I can tell. You know how when you watch porn, you keep a browser tab (with Masterpiece Theater on it, obviously) open in case somebody walks in on you? You quickly click over to Masterpiece Theater so it looks like you’re just getting cultured instead of getting off. Morrissey does the opposite of that. Morrissey watches the Olympics and keeps a browser tab (with porn on it) open in case somebody walks in on him. And when Morrissey lets out a wall-shaking groan at the sight of the “dazzling royals” at the Olympics, he can just say that the porn he was watching was so hot that it made him cum through his mouth. Morrissey can’t fool me.

And here’s the “dazzling royals” smiling extra for Morrissey at some Olympic events yesterday.

Morrissey Is Quitting This Bitch….In Two Years

Morrissey tells JuiceOnline.com (via Billboard) that after being in the music business for 30 years, his body is no longer the willowy reed of pure sex that it once was and so he’s going to officially retire at the decaying and decrepit (served in a bowl of warm sarcasm) age of 55. Morrissey name dropped Syria in his resignation letter, because it wouldn’t be a Morrissey quote if he didn’t inject a little political shit into it.

“I am slightly shocked to have gone as far as I have. This is my 30th year, and I’ve aged a lot recently, which is bit distressing for me, as it must be for everyone. The body changes shape and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do I continue as a modern day Andy Williams? I take one hour at a time. We will all probably be blown up by the Syrian government soon, anyway, so it hardly matters in the great scheme of things.”

What in the hell kind of GD retirement excuse is that?! Morrissey is going to retire because his sciatica is acting up and he doesn’t think the scent of BenGay belongs at a rock show? What bullshit. Iggy Pop performed at Ramesses II’s Diamond Jubilee and he’s still swinging his saggy chest sacks on stage today. Steven Tyler’s bones are being held together with mummy tape dipped in Elmer’s and he doesn’t let that stop him from performing. But Morrissey is too delicate to go on? This isn’t how Morrissey is supposed to quit. Morrissey is supposed to quit over some stupid shit like an audience member in the front row sipping non-vegan beer at one of his shows. Morrissey will gasp, throw the back of his hand over his forehead, arch his back and jazz walk stage left as the lights dim to a slow cue and a red velvet curtain drops. That’s how a melodramatic queen goes!

Whatever. I’m okay with Morrissey retiring from music as long as he’s not retiring from saying crazy ass shit.

Morrissey Will Call Lady Gaga “Lady Hitler” In 3..2..

Vegan, animal activist and noted cuntatarian Morrissey puked out a quarter pounder of shit with an extra slice of inappropriateness the other night when he compared the massacre in Norway to the slaughter of cows for McDonald’s “meat.” Hold that thought, Morrissey, because Lady Caca’s slaves delivered bags upon bags of McDonald’s to all of the fans that waited outside of the Chateau Marmont for hours to meet her. Why wait for hours to meet Caca when they could’ve been at home fucking themselves with a Breathless Mahoney doll since it’s practically the same thing? But that’s a question for another day.

Along with the bags full of screaming cow patties, Caca attached this little love note:

“Dear little monsters. Thank you for singing to me all day and night. I love you with all my heart. You make everyday worth living. Kisses to the cops for keeping you safe. Love Lady GaGa”

Do you want to wrap the map to Caca’s meat Nazi (Meatzi?) bunker in lettuce leaves and pass it to Morrissey or shall I? Wait. Or are we supposed to bolt the theater doors and hold Caca down while Morrissey writes “MEATZI” on that bitch’s forehead in tahini sauce? I forget how the movie goes.

And here’s Lady Hitler leaving her hotel last night while looking like a lazy-eyed, coked-up trans bunny in a Donatella Versace wig and one of Morticia’s old dresses. Or if you want the short version: looking like Elvira Aguilera.

Thanks For Breaking It Down For Us, Morrissey

It’s another day, which means the grouchy old grass fed cunt that is Morrissey is once again spitting out his own toe nails while spitting out a statement that is offending a lot of people. Morrissey once called the Chinese a “subspecies“ and at a concert in Poland on Sunday, his name ended up on a whole new group of people’s Shut The Fuck Up List when he compared the massacre in Norway to fast food. This mess came out of Moz’s meat-free pie hole before he sang his song “Meat is Murder“:

“We all live in a murderous world, as the events in Norway have shown, with 97 dead [sic].

Though that is nothing compared to what happens in McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried shit every day.”

Then Moz went on to say, “And 9/11 ain’t nothing compared to what’s happening on the buffet line at Sizzler.”

If this is Morrissey’s way of trying to get a place on Spaz de la Huerta’s debate team for crazies, then he can stop right now, because I’m pretty sure she’s FedEx-ing him a team blazer right now.

We all already know that Morrissey mostly hates people and has an undying love for animals (although, the feeling is not mutual for some animals). Sometimes I feel the same way, but to say that fast food is worse than the massacre of children? Everything is a tragedy competition to his ass. Like if I told him I had a headache, he’d probably say, “Poor you! What about the pig who has no head, because it was murdered for that hot dog you’re eating.”

I say this as a fan of Morrissey’s music (it’s the junior high school chola in me), please just shut the fuck up already and get fucked. Since you’re off meat forever, fuck yourself with a tree branch. xo.

Who Is Morrissey Offending Today?

Oh, Morrissey, fuck. The man who wrote the lyrics that thousands of rockabilly teenage cholas recited as a monologue in their beginners drama class is back at it again. Morrissey is a serious animal rights advocate and vegetarian so when he watched a special on the news about animal abuse in China, a new hate for the Chinese developed in his brain. Since this is Morrissey we’re talking about, you know exactly where this is heading.

In an interview with Simon Armitage for The Guardian, Morrissey summoned a million Sydney Dalton-like protests against him when he said that China’s treatment of animals makes them a “sub-species” in his book. Here’s Morrissey’s full quote as well as some other fuckery nuggets:

On the Chinese: “Did you see the thing on the news about their treatment of animals and animal welfare? Absolutely horrific. You can’t help but feel that the Chinese are a subspecies.”

On pop stars today: “They have two or three melodies and they repeat them ad nauseum over the course of 28 albums.”

On people: “They are problems.”

On his pets: “Yes. Cats. I’ve had lots of cats. But also many bereavements.”

On being lonely: “We’re all lonely, but I’d rather be lonely by myself than with a long list of duties and obligations. I think that’s why people kill themselves, really. Or at least that’s why they think, ‘Thank heaven for death.’ ”

On if he has a drivers license or not: “What kind of bland, insipid question is that?”

A spokesperson for Love Music Hate Racism immediately slapped Morrissey in his fat mouth with this statement: “It is crude racism. When you start using language like ‘sub-species’, you are entering into dark and murky water.”

Morrissey didn’t sit down and stood by his words after some people called it a racist statement: “If anyone has seen the horrific and unwatchable footage of the Chinese cat and dog trade — animals skinned alive — then they could not possibly argue in favor of China as a caring nation. There are no animal protection laws in China and this results in the worst animal abuse and cruelty on the planet. It is indefensible.”

A black cloud has been stuck up Morrissey’s ass for a while, so I’m pretty sure he HATES ALL PEOPLE. Bitch is like the Emo Scrooge. I’m not defending his words, but if he could live on a deserted island with only his cats he would. But he’d probably still find a tree trunk or some shit to yell at.