News Roundup: Sliwa On Patrol, Gay Porn Star Misses Out On VP Bid & Nobody Cares About Your Wedding
I spent nearly a decade working in the news industry, and while the corporate press is very much full of shit, the stories are still tons of fun. Here are some of my favorites from the past week!
Guardian Angels To The Rescue
The year 2020 really wouldn’t be complete without the return of Curtis Sliwa and the Guardian Angels to the streets of New York City.
For the uninitiated Sliwa is like a canary in a coal mine for when things are going seriously wrong around the Big ol Apple. He leads a group of red beret clad vigilantes known as the ‘Guardian Angels’. I’m not 100 percent sure, but I believe the last time they patrolled the streets was during the slashing craze a few years back (this is Bill de Blasio’s New York after all, so of course we had a several months long rash of slashings in otherwise safe locations around the city).
This time, Sliwa and company are keeping the residents of Gotham safe from drug users and public masturbators. You see, de Blasio thought it would be a good idea to empty the city’s homeless shelters and move occupants into very expensive neighborhoods like the Upper West Side. It might be too easy to compare de Blaz to Fidel Castro at times, but this smacks of El Comandante releasing the inhabitants of Cuba’s mental institutions at the beginning of Scarface…we all saw how well that worked out.
As the New York Post reports, the city’s homeless are a tad less industrious than Tony Montana. Instead of rising to the top of the international narcotics trade, they’ve been shooting dope, smoking crack and K2, and engaging in ‘broad daylight masturbation’. If we’re being totally honest, I would never want to be homeless, but if there is an advantage to being a vagrant it’s that nobody bats an eye if they see you getting high and jerking off as you bathe in a public fountain.
Of course de Blasio has been too busy eating pizza with a fork, running a failed presidential campaign, and doing a stupid dance with his kids (I’m serious, watch the video below. If you didn’t already hate de Blasio, you will after watching this video) to address the situation.
The current goings on in New York City really have all the trappings of a low-bit 1990s video game. You remember the old days when you’d pick a character, land in some kind of semi-abandoned hellscape, and walk in a straight line, punching, kicking, shooting, or otherwise duking it out with wave after wave of generic, easily defeated enemies until you made it to the boss at the end.
That’s what Curtis and the Guardian Angels are doing at press time. Or at least I assume that’s how it’s going. Sliwa and the boys making their way along 8th Ave, doing battle with scab covered homeless guys who are high on synthetic marijuana, brandishing used syringes and the kind of rock-hard, I gotta stroke this thing right goddamn now or I’m gonna die erections that occur when you mix designer drugs with an eyeful of yoga pants clad au pairs pushing strollers in and out of luxury apartment buildings.
Fuck Jurassic Park, Aladdin, Contra, Sonic, Mario, and all the other dog shit games we played as kids. I wanna mash the A B and C buttons when I get to the end of Level 1 — presumably near 110th Street — so I can do battle with the boss. Maybe it’s the bodega owner who has been supplying said vagrants with their drugs and pints of brandy, or perhaps it’s a muscular homeless guy hopped up on PCP who uses his turgid rod as a weapon to fire disease ridden loads in your direction (Gamer’s Tip: Hit the B button twice in a row to take off your beret and block those hot white gobs before they can hurt you).
I imagine that to win the game you would have some kind of final showdown in Park Slope or outside of Gracie Mansion. The pre-fight vignette involves a 16-bit Bill de Blasio slamming his fist on a wooden desk as he reads a Post headline about Sliwa taking action to curb the administration’s efforts at destroying the city. Then you show up ready for battle only to find that you’ve interrupted the mayor as he’s getting pegged by First Lady Chirlane McCray — looks like you’ll be fighting both of them! The mayor keeps trying to pick you up and drop you to the ground, it’s the same lethal finishing move that he used to kill Staten Island Chuck a few years back. Every once in a while Chirlane pops onto the screen to attack you with a poop covered dildo while you’re distracted by her husband. Someone get the team from Konami on the line, I want this game in every arcade by the end of the year!
Kamala Harris Beats Out Mayor With Gay Porn Name For Biden Veep Bid
If you’ve listened to my podcast before, then you know I’m an independent who tends to caucus with the Libertarian Party, so I’m not voting for Trump or Biden. As such, this is apolitical commentary on the selection of Kamala Harris as Diamond Joe’s VP.
Pretty much all that I’ve taken from this selection is that she beat out the Mayor of Atlanta for the job. If you don’t follow the news you can be excused for not realizing that the mayor’s name is Keisha Lance Bottoms, and for the sake of brevity that name is often shortened to ‘Lance Bottoms’.
I was scrolling through various cable news channels the other day when I heard a talking head refer to her as nothing more than ‘Lance Bottoms’. As I was high as fuck at the time, I thought it was hilarious that there was a proud black woman named ‘Lance Bottoms’.
If you say the name Lance Bottoms around me, my immediate assumption is that you are describing a gay porn star. That’s because Lance Bottoms is 100 percent a gay porn name. Lance Bottoms is not a strong black woman. Lance Bottoms is a slender twink who’s taking on all cummers in Anal Adventures 8: No Girls Allowed.
Maybe it’s like that Lindsay Lohan movie Freaky Friday, where a black woman and a gay porn star switched places. Perhaps somewhere out there in porn valley there’s a 120 lbs white guy with a waxed asshole and a 9 inch cock, named Latoya Washington.
“This summer Well Hung Productions presents Latoya Washington in Filling Station Faggots: The Truck Stops Here!“
Haulin a heavy load today boys!
It’s a four hour hardcore feature about a slender boy who lures horny truck drivers into homoerotic encounters at highway rest areas — that’s a film the whole family can enjoy!
Nobody Cares About Your Wedding
I guess this could have been an addition to yesterday’s inaugural White People Do The Darndest Things post, but I was getting sleepy while writing and had to wrap things up, so I’m including it in the news roundup. Anyway, look at these assholes clogging up traffic on 5th Ave.
If you can’t see the video, it features a very Caucasian wedding party clogging up 5th Ave so they can take a picture. I shit you not, it appears to be at a green light, and there is a bus and an ambulance stuck behind them which means someone could be missing out on life saving surgery and a low wage worker could be running late for work, all because these jerkoffs had to get their special picture taken. Where’s that guy who ran over the protestors in Charlottesville when you need him?
Is there anything worse than a self-important wedding party? A bunch of former frat dudes with erectile difficulties chugging White Claws, walking arm in arm with chicks in ugly dresses and overdone makeup who are in their final years of sexual attractiveness before father time and an awful diet finally catch up to them.
It’s an interesting paradox, aside from attending the event, nobody gives a shit about your wedding. If you’ve ever spent any time around a couple who was planning a wedding or has recently gotten married then you know how miserable and boring it can be to hear them discuss the planning process. I’m sorry, unless you have a story about the pastry chef sodomizing a caterer with a rolling pin, nobody wants to hear about the planning of your nuptials.
Seating arrangements aren’t interesting. Picking out a venue isn’t interesting. Agonizing over who makes the invite list and who gets cut isn’t fucking interesting. Oh, you’re wasting tens of thousands of dollars on a five hour party? Fantastic, lot’s of people do stupid things with money, but unless you’re gonna tell me about the bride’s mother getting cornholed by the DJ inside the photobooth, I just can’t bring myself to give a shit.
“She said ‘yes’ to the dress.”
I don’t care. It’s white, it’s overpriced, she’s gonna have to get her fat ass to the gym if she has any chance of fitting her fat ass into the dress, they’re gonna be divorced in 10 years, he’s gonna kill the entire family in a gruesome murder-suicide to avoid the cost and stress of litigation, yada yada yada. It’s a story we’ve heard a thousand times, and just because it’s “your special day” it still isn’t interesting to anybody else. Same as with having kids, but at least with them there’s the fun of teaching someone else’s child to say bad words.
Here’s what I care about when it comes to your wedding; make sure it’s open bar, don’t skimp on the appetizers during cocktail hour, point me in the direction of the bridesmaid who got air-tighted on spring break in Punta Cana junior year. That’s it. Step on the glass, mazel tov, I’m out hundreds of dollars and have to waste my Sunday traveling home with a hangover. Thanks for the invite though, had a great time.