Archive for the ‘True Evil’ Category

As Promised, Tension At The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

April 18, 2014

Holocaust-interior_2344

This post should be an interesting attempt to relay an uncomfortable yet amusing incident whilst still maintaining an a modicum of respect towards the setting. Hopefully, this won’t come off as “yah, so we were at that Nazi place in DC and these bitches…” Knowing me, it probably will. Alas!

The other Mr. Harvey and I were in DC to celebrate his 40th birthday at the beginning of this month. He’s not one for big parties where people look at him (that was actually a concern he voiced once…people looking at him…when he doesn’t have his hijab on) so we thought a quick jaunt somewhere fun would be keen. Plus, we’re both currently unemployed (we’re the American nightmare) and had the time laying around and look, Jet Blue has a deal! Cherry blossoms and new bars in which to get intoxicated and new sidewalks to stumble upon while drunkenly abusing Uber!

Despite it being a birthday trip, there were some tourist attractions we had wanted to see that weren’t exactly going to be the ball pit at Chuckie Cheese (that’s not a gay sex reference). We had both heard that the main exhibit at the Holocaust Museum was a sobering must-see. We got our tickets online for our 1st day there so we could get the horror portion of the other Mr. Harvey’s birthday out of the way.

It’s an interesting space. I wouldn’t call it pleasant because it’s designed to evoke concentration camp imagery with a lot of brick and exposed girders. Another interesting feature? The staff, for the most part, are made up of some really extreme personalities. Most of the service industry members we encountered in our nation’s capital that trip were really friendly, laid-back and warm. I’m not sure why, but most of the staff at the Holocaust Memorial were WROUGHT. Witness our first exchange with the female human that womans the entrance elevators to the main exhibit.

We make our way in-between her velvet ropes (that came out dirty) but Scotty has us pause so we can call up our tickets on his phone. Please note in advance that there is no line behind us or in front of us. At that moment it’s just the Harveys. My husband has been searching and scrolling for maybe two seconds when she attacked.

Holocaust worker: Tickets?

Husband: Just calling them up on my phone here…

Holocaust worker (perhaps she didn’t hear him?): I said, do you have tickets?

Me: He’s just getting them on his phone.

Holocaust worker: Well, maybe you should move over there to find them so you’re not blocking the way, ok?

I look behind me and note the absence of any other people behind us. Just some velvet ropes. Air. Is this a fire exit? My husband, who does not suffer being spoken down to by fools, bitches, or maniacs, jerks his head up from his phone. Sometimes I feel like there’s a rubber band stretched to its extreme in his brain. That rubber band is marked “JUST TRY IT, BITCH.” I myself loathe confrontation. I’m the shrinking violet who nervously laughs when he forgets to hold a door for someone AND RUNS BACK TO DO IT because I want them to know I didn’t do it out of spite. It makes me look like a wackjob but it’s all designed to not get a dirty look or have anyone think “remember that asshole who didn’t hold the door for me at the mall” before they fall asleep that evening.

Anyway…

“I’M CALLING IT UP RIGHT NOW,” he said in a slow, emphatic tone. Oh dear. Before Officer Friendly could ignore that and ask for tickets again in a disgusted monotone, they popped up on his phone. She waved us through towards a bank of elevators with a chubby, indifferent hand. Another holocaust worker shot out of nowhere with blond curls and a peppy demeanor. She was the radiant ying to ticket bitch’s yang. You would have thought she was seating us at a Disneyworld character breakfast. She had obviously never read up on XYKLON-B or what they were making the lampshades with in Nazi Germany.

We were put in an elevator with a large, equally happy family. Mom was smiling widely as they bantered. She was standing directly in front of the elevator’s panel of buttons. Smiling. No button was pressed. Nothing was lit up. Nothing was moving. A couple of dreary pics of German soldiers added to my discomfort from above. Do I…move her? What do I say? Can I get in there? What if she thought I meant her ass? Her ass was almost ON the panel. NOTHING WAS HAPPENING. WE WEREN’T MOVING. There’s no switch outside they can press? It’s hot in here. They’re talking like it’s fine. Is this like the Haunted Mansion and we’re actually going down but it’s so mechanically deft we can’t feel it? Scotty didn’t notice. He’s looking at his phone and reading the walls. Swiss Family Oblivious are laughing and chatting like it’s the cherry blossom festival. THERE’S GONNA BE FOOTAGE OF EMACIATED CORPSES BEING MOVED OFF OF TRUCKS WITH PITCHFORKS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THOSE DOORS. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE. I made my move.

“Can I…” I advanced towards Denim Elevator Panel Ass, weakly pointing behind her. She looked at me, and then turned to see why I was invading her space. Her mouth opened wide and she began giggling.

“Oh! OH! We were just sitting here! I’m sorry!”

“Way to go, Mom!”

“Duh, Ma!”

I smiled nervously (“Oh, that,’s ok!’ I shrieked), sweat beads barreling down my ivory expanse of a 10-head. Social anxiety is the fucking worst. Button pressed. Nothing happened.

Nothing happened. We were in a hot elevator with nothing happening. They didn’t even give us a button light for assurance. Was this part of the show? That’s fine, we deserved to suffer. We deserved a portly ticket taker making us feel stupid. We didn’t go through what all those people went through. We deserve to sweat and feel awkward in this hell-avator.

The doors sprang open. Cool air rushed in. The happy Holocaust worker regarded us quizzically. Blonde curls bounced as she cocked her head to the side like a curious toy poodle.

“Well, um, wait? What happened?”

“I guess we weren’t going anywhere…” Denim Elevator Panel Ass Mom offered helpfully. Happy went to get Grumpy. She waddled over with a ring of keys and her usual stank face. Resentfully flipping open a little door on the panel, she shoved a key in, and pressed the button again with a girthy finger.

“This breaks…,” she announced moodily to no one in particular. She was never one for an apology.

The doors shut, the floor shook and hydraulics hummed. Up.

(more…)

Paris Hilton TOTALLY Jacking Lindsay Lohan’s Useless Cokewhore Swag

September 1, 2010

I would use my limited Photoshop skills to clumsily draw rifle sights over their faces but I don't want the police to come after me. Celebrities can do that!

I KNEW IT! For real. No one just opens up the purse they’re carrying and dumps out a bag of powder in front of the police. How sick is it that these crazed sinkhole bitches will commit felonies just to get back in the limelight? Does it really raise your appearance fee up that much? Word is that Paris Hilton, jealous that Freckles McLeggins (Lindsay Lohan) got so much press from her recent incarceration, PLANNED to get busted for cocainya. Is it bad to wish someone could be sent through a crematorium but still be alive? We could make the coffin pretty at least..

E! has the speculation this morning. Did wall-eyed fuck pony Hilton get so jealous of her former friend Leggins McEffYouNail’s recent infamy that she got pulled over on the Vegas strip on purpose? Her and the gentleman she is currently allowing in her nethers were rollin’ down the street, with weed smoke BILLOWING out of their car. After being yanked, Hilton asked the cop if she could go use the bathroom at the Wynn. He escorted her, at which time she asked for her bag back to get some lip chap (herpes sores need soothing) and she let a Ziplock fulla .8 grams of disco dust fly outta there.

Paris dialed up the obvious and said it was someone else’s bag, despite the presence of her credit cards in said bag. You know, the ones that had her name printed on them.

And I can see it. It’s not far-fetched. She and her dude were probably frantically sucking on joints to create enough of a smoke signal to attract law enforcement. How much weed do you have to smoke so that people can VISIBLY SEE THE CLOUD AS YOU ARE DRIVING PAST THEM? Did she step out of the car with dreds in?

So far, she’s free and clear because celebrities can sink an axe into the heads of babies and MAYBE get a ticket. They really are a class of people valued higher than the rest of us by the dreck that runs this world. Then again, E! and I propagate the mess by reporting on these people. I mean this E! report is basically just me speculating on that skank’s motivation, but with a nicer looking blog and better pay. It wasn’t a news story. So we’re actually worse than she is. If it makes everyone feel better, my life is a pit of shadows.

Hopefully this will backfire on her caricature ass and she ends up in jail for a long time. Actually eff that, hopefully she ends up in some serial killer’s dungeon and experiencing the table saw. Serial killers need to leave off killing innocent people and going for the ones no one likes. Like her.

In other news, I saw a man today wearing a livestrong bracelet and carrying a copy of the The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. And I wanted to behead him. Is that bad? Where was your The North Face backpack? Can we talk about The Office?

People On That Flight Of Drama Are Saying Steve Slater Started It

August 12, 2010

This is a lie because I have never seen ANY of those sorts of delicious snacks on a JetBlue flight

I’m guessing that these are the same sort of people who throw flip fits from behind their large, white, ostentatious sunglasses when the frazzled barista gets their order wrong down at the Starbucks. Or they litter. These twats sound like people who litter.

People has a few comments from passengers on the now infamous flight from which Steve Slater slid away into fame.

One passenger on the flight from Pittsburgh to New York said Thursday on NBC’s Today show that Slater, 38, was rude to her at the very beginning of the trip, when she asked for a wipe to clean her seat.

“He said, ‘Not right now, honey. Maybe when we get in the air. I have to take care of myself first,’ ” said Lauren Dominijanni. “He actually made me feel pretty uncomfortable. I just let it go after that point.”

Look, unless there was human feces on the seat, she needs to stop running to the networks. It was probably a spot of apple juice or dust or something. Fuck. This dude needs to make sure there aren’t any people wearing shoe bombs on the plane and this Lauren ho doesn’t want to get an imaginary stain on her gaucho pants. Fuck you, Lauren. Sit your creepy, entitled ass down. Homophobe. Everyone loves the gays until they come off the reality show competition and start keepin’ it RAWL! Then we make you “uncomfortable.” Put on your earbuds and watch Two And A Half Men, you mewling child.

This other one says that Slater is the one who started the fight.

Another passenger told the Wall Street Journal that Slater was the one who was rude – blurting out an expletive – after the plane landed and a woman inquired about her luggage.

“I didn’t think [the passenger] was rude in the least,” said Marjorie Briskin. “It really blew my mind. It was so inappropriate.”

In this day and age, where there is always someone with their phone out HD recording every friggin’ celebrity-shaped CLOUD that drifts by, why didn’t anyone get this on TAPE? Inquiring minds want to know. The second Slater’s left eyebrow “excuse me?”-peaked when Luggage Queen started her bullshit, everyone I know would have had their iPhones a’rollin’. ACTION!

Slater’s ex-wife (guess everyone else got the memo before they did on his sexuality…) had the best quote, though. Declaring that Steve is “the consummate flight attendant” and “born to fly” (ed. note – and you can almost SEE the fragile, glittery wings of a superstar butterfly…), she says that he was obviously pushed by circumstance to slide his gay ass out of that big bird, pulling off the diva exit of a lifetime.

“I’m assuming this passenger must have been the end-all, be-all of something he just didn’t want to deal with anymore,” she speculated.

Susanne said flight attendants are subjected to abuse more than most people who have to deal with the public. “They are not waitresses of the sky,” she said. “They’re here to save your lives.”

WAITRESSES OF THE SKY! This blog is now called WAITRESSES OF THE SKY!

Lindsay’s Parents Upholding The Family Tradition Of “Whorish Moron”

July 7, 2010

I'd rather have Fred and Rosemary West as parents (look it up)...

Ooh, is anyone else hung over from the Lindsay Is Going To Jail party? I am. I think someone slipped me a roofie right after our third viewing of I Know Who Killed Me, and I woke up with the Duff sisters on top of me. You know those old-school tween stars raised a glass last night cuz’ bitch went down!

As expected, Dina Lohan acted her usual enabling stagemom “who’s gonna float me my Xanax money?” self yesterday when Lohan’s tearbombs burst as she heard she was going to do a bid and Dina heard the verdict. Here’s what Popeater says she said:

“This is so not fair to do this to my child,” a flabbergasted Dina Lohan told PopEater exclusively shortly after Judge Marsha Revel made the announcement.

Come again? Fair?!?!

Someone on Facebook mentioned that they sorta kinda felt bad for Lindsay because it’s fairly obvious this aging hag supported her ass by building the “you can do anything you want, you’re Supergirl, now sign this check for Mommy” scaffolding around her. Which made her a sociopath. Frankly, I think that as an adult, you can’t blame your shithead behavior on your parents. There is something called “responsibility.” RiRi Harvey once made me wear Chinese knock-off Nikes from Building #19 with the swish REVERSED and in GOLD LAME (they would be so hot nowadays) to school and I haven’t raped a nun, yet. Although it totally made me like boys…

But nevertheless it IS obvious that Lohan had next to no chance to even OBSERVE how a normal adult carries themselves while growing up. Not that it excuses anything. I wouldn’t excuse her from the Sarlac pit at this point, she’s so awful.

Oh, and don’t think Manic Mike Lohan didn’t show his crazy self outside the courtroom. Firstly, word is he tried to barge INTO the courtroom during the proceedings to attempt to read some sort of statement on behalf on Lindsay. Keep in mind that his entire estranged family wants nothing to do with him, and he is INSERTING himself into the center for attention. This is a grown-ass man. And check this out:

While he declined to issue a comment following the sentencing (ed. note – he must have had food in his mouth or something), his spokeswoman baffled reporters when she urged Lohan to report to rehab immediately, apparently unaware the actress must first go to jail. When corrected by an onlooker, the unidentified rep said the rehab portion of the ruling was “a great victory” for the Lohan family.

So basically, even their EMPLOYEES are crackers. Then again, this was probably some slut he met down the pub and declared her his “spokeswoman.” Right?

This Is What I Took Away From A Visit To A Beat Amusement Park In Agawam, Massachusetts aka Screw Your Phone Socks!

July 5, 2010
Yeah, no shit.

Yeah, no shit.

Ok, so Scotty and I decided we wanted to go take a day trip together a couple of weeks back. Because most of our time is spent catering to the whims of our fucking dog (and I mean “fucking” in the most loving way possible, like a gentle blossom falling onto a placid lake) and we don’t actually have any time when we’re really alone. So of course, being the mature adults we are we decide to go to Six Flags New England.

See, when you’re a gay guy you don’t really have that much responsibility to handle all the time and there can be a certain lack of maturity for some of us who are…I guess…fun-loving? Unwilling to hang up our Chuck Taylors? So, whereas most couples would elect to maybe journey to a darling little seaport for a day of shopping punctuated with lunch and cocktails, we decided to go tempt a miscarriage by riding the Superman coaster and tracking just how redneck the teens in western Mass have become (we are talking tramp stamped butterflys, the smoking habits of 1970s Vegas strippers, and mullets galore. Throw in a Slipknot tee, some messy French kissing and dry humping in public and puree. I thought I was at a biker rally in Laconia, NH.)

Anyway, the trip was a wash (except for when we found out that their water park has a tiki bar…getting slightly drunk and critiquing the scary people in unflattering swimwear in the smoking area wasn’t bad). Roller coasters…hurt now. Isn’t that sad to admit? And they’re scary because when you get older, you know what pain and loss is like.

And we also discovered that there is a grave injustice going on in the world of phone socks! Keep reading.

(more…)

Mel Gibson Said WHAT?!?!

July 1, 2010

Feel free to pull that trigger, Dan.

Feel free to pull that trigger, Dan.

Sugartits himself didn’t get the message the first time he was caught in a racist-ass meltdown and he’s gone back to the “Fuck, did they get that on tape?” buffet.

The story is that Mel Gibson and his post-divorce impregnated jumpoff , Oksana Grigorieva, are currently embroiled in a restraining order swordfight. And Oksana just jabbed her sword up his ass by providing the court with tapes she recorded of Mel being verbally abusive about the way she dressed. And don’t think he didn’t drop the N-bomb when he thought he was behind closed doors. So black people can now join our Jewish friends in driving by and throwing flaming bags of feces on Mel’s reputation.

Radar says that the following gems are on tape for the divorce court’s delight. Can Oksana just order diamond tiara now or does she have to wait until this is notarized?

“You’re an embarrassment to me. You look like a fucking pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of n***ers, it will be your fault.

“How dare you act like such a bitch when I have been so fucking nice.”

“I am going to come and burn the fucking house down… but you will blow me first.”

“Look what you did to me… look what you are… look what every part of you is… fucking fake… fucking fake. You are the most synthetic person… who the fuck are you?”

That first one is nice. Does Danny Glover know that Mel feels that way? Would Danny and his “pack” show up to rehearsal and rub Mel’s racist ass the wrong way on the set of Lethal Weapon 1 – Aught Four or something?

Mel’s done, right? This would be “done?”

And next time I want to get blown, I’ m telling Scotty that I’m setting the apartment on fire. Does that actually work? Anyone?

Someone Hold Me…(The Trailer For Trash Humpers)

June 16, 2010

Can we just go see Despicable Me, Mommy?

Can we just go see Despicable Me, Mommy?

Ok, so awhile back I was home on a hungover Saturday afternoon and saw this film Gummo listed on On Demand and noted it was by Harmony Korine, the dude who wrote Kids for Larry Clark. So I watched it. And oh my lord. It was this ramshackle, rough-looking non-linear piece which followed around a bunch of redneck BMX kids with FUCKED UP hair in what looked like the 80s after a hurricane hit their town. And they spent the whole movie torturing cats, and riding around on their bikes and visiting hookers with Down’s Syndrome. And then there’s other even creepier characters interspersed (like the guy pimping out his mentally challenged sister) and then Chloe Sevigny has electrical tape on her nipples and a bad dye job but doesn’t she always? It was totally heart-warming and I think Sandra Bullock was supposed to star (she would have played the cat) but she pulled out.

Anyway, it made me uneasy inside, which is why I think Korine makes movies. There’s little to no plot to his films, they just kinda meander and show you things that aren’t pretty but that’s kind of a blessing in our Blu-Ray HD Michael Bay and James Cameron extremely crisp Avatar world. Korine’s films tend to look like a VHS tape. Then again VHS these days screams snuff film to me.What does it mean when old school signifies evil?

Speaking of evil, I saw this trailer to his latest movie called (wait for it…) Trash Humpers. Which is about a “loser-gang cult-freak collective” that…well, read the title. Help me.

Holy shite. In the wikipedia entry for the film, Korine is quoted as saying that he planned to just leave the cassette the film is on just lying on a sidewalk somewhere for someone to find(!!!) instead of releasing it traditionally. Isn’t that when the FBI would have gotten involved? The one shot of the guy energetically porking the dumpster is going to stay with me for the rest of my life. Something about the film quality, and the old school electronic font, and the creepy old people masks makes me want to watch The Little Mermaid immediately.

When you were a kid (this might be more true for guys), was there an older kid in the neighborhood who was kinda sketchy and shouldn’t have been hanging out with younger kids and he would get you alone and show you things like the dead rat he was saving in his backyard under an abandoned rowboat, or his daddy’s gun collection? And then one day he showed you naked pics of his grandma or his parent’s sex toy that he found? That’s what this trailer made me feel like. Ugh.

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If Karma’s Real, This Bitch Is Going To End Up Eaten Alive By Mutant Rats

June 7, 2010

Ok, so earlier today I filled you in on Gary Coleman‘s ex-wife (BUT THEY WERE PLANNING ON RE-MARRYING, GOD I THINK I FEEL A SEIZURE COMING ON, SOMEONE FETCH ME SOME SORT OF OXYGEN DEVICE WITH MASK) taking his unfortunate death on the road to get herself some coin. And now, TMZ is reporting that this bitch might be saving herself a seat on the hell barge right next to your average Al Qaeda member, that Ugandan eat da poo poo guy, and a former manager of mine who shall remain nameless.

Gary Coleman’s ex-wife is the mastermind behind the photos which show the actor in the hospital, bloodied, with tubes sticking out of his body … and there’s also a photo taken after he died. We’re told Shannon Price had a production company shoot the photos. Our sources say Shannon is featured in one of the photos.

It would have been enough if this soulless whore had whipped out her phone or some shit, BUT SHE HIRED A PRODUCTION COMPANY?!? Which means she planned all along to make these photos look as clear and gory as possible to fetch a good sum. Which she did. A tabloid has purchased three of the pictures (even they didn’t want to buy THE POST-MORTEM ONE SHE HAD TAKEN).

I could write more about how cold this trick is, but then I thought to myself…what if this was all planned? Gary had heart issues. Ronald McDrummond said they were having money troubles. Maybe this was his way of making sure she was sorta taken care of for at least a little while after he kicked? Kind of a sad showbiz O. Henry story?

Nah. She’s seriously evil. I wouldn’t stand near her. Nature is bound to take care of this.

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