My little sister was kind enough to text me at 5:18 this morning to tell me that I should probably update this. Which lead to me realizing it’s been an embarrassingly long time since I considered writing things here. It also lead to me realizing that my family reads this nonsense and probably saw when I called that chick the mayor of cunt-town….Sorry mom.
I’ll consider posting again, but in the mean time I’m going to go write an update post over at Douche Soup, which I also abandoned.
I realize this hasn’t been updating in quite a while, so I thought I should pop in and update (read: overshare).
My dad was in a pretty bad accident last week, the day before my grandma had to go in for surgery from back when she got hit by a car during the spring, so I’ve been a bit pre-occupied. It’s hard to think about people I’m better than when trying to figure out if I should fly home, or stay here and help my grandma. Stress!
I promise once I’m functioning a bit better there will be new posts, since other people have written a few but I haven’t gotten around to formatting them. Plus with a new American government, I don’t think it will be too long until there are tons of new people to mock.
First ever guest blogger! This entry is brought to you by Adam White. he is the writer over at Reasons Why I Hate Girls. Thanks Adam!
Pete Wentz, bassist for Fall Out Boy is a scourge on the music scene. It is incredibly ironic that one of his biggest gripes of ‘08 is the word douchebag. I guess it’s fitting because he is probably called one a lot, since it suits him so well.
I don’t go out of my way to give my child the most retarded name ever. Bronx Mowgli? Was Staten Island Baloo or Queens Kaa too run-of-the mill? Actually, Queens Kaa Wentz is quite a lovely name for a girl. Consider it a gift from me to you.
If Google image my name, my dick doesn’t pop up on the first page.
Most of my writing isn’t long winded excuses to be clever, or random snippets from movies. Examples:
Our Lawyer made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued
Of All The Gin Joints In All The World
Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends.
I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy And All I got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me
Gay Is Not a Synonym For Shitty
I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off.
We get it Pete, you really, really like to be long winded and show off how clever you are with movie references.
A bassist in a Pop-Punk band? A bassist?! What a complex instrument to play in a difficult genre. At least Mark Hoppus had a reason to be a front-man of the band, he could sing.
I’m not entirely androgynous with hordes of eye make up and girl jeans.
If I was going to write a book, I wouldn’t steal the title from a Smiths song. Morrissey should seriously sue your ass, because I doubt he wants his song to be remotely associated with you.
I don’t talk on media outlets about anal sex.
His Art Gallery is named Without You, I’m Just Me. Deep stuff.
My entire fan base isn’t teenage girls that want me.
I’ve never tried to kill myself by ODing on anxiety meds, and claim my life was saved by the song Hallelujah
Well Merry Christmas all you people I’m obviously better than. I’m going against my better judgement and my mother by defaming the notorious Christmas icon Santa Clause who I am also obviously better than for again, obvious reasons.
I don’t kidnap midgets, call them elves, and then force them to do manual labour.
I don’t disappear for 363 days of the year only to come out for one that I don’t even say hello. Come on, I’ve called you a million times and you don’t return my calls!
I don’t, on my one visit of the year, sneak into your home, without a sound, and drop off gifts. I appreciate it but the sound of your hollow breathing beside me as I sleep really creeps me out.
I don’t give gifts expecting something in return. So you got me a Wii this Christmas, I guess I can give you some cookies and a glass of spiked milk.
That’s another thing: I don’t go and steal electronics. How do I know this? Because I’ve never seen an orphaned midget create a Playstation 3.
I don’t pretend to be every shopping mall at once.
I don’t crush the spirit of another cute holiday icon by insulting his red nose only to call upon him to help me do my dirty work when it gets “a little foggy” out. I know your code words… I’m onto you.
I don’t have rosy red cheeks all the time. Lay off the booze fat man!
I am thin enough to fit through a chimney.
Oh yeah, and I’m real.
But all jokes aside, Santa is really awesome and got me a whole array of great gifts and hopefully you did too, so Happy Holidays from all of us at “People I’m Better Than” and have a Happy New Year!
Dear Lila, for every baby you save, I'll kill 3. Love, Christi
So, my little sister came to town, so I decided I deserved a week off. But then I watched a video featuring this bitch. AKA the cuntiest cunt in the history of cuntiness. She is the mayor of cunt-town. I can’t think of anything more witty than that, that’s how enraged she has made me. It might just be that I saw Milk tonight (FANTASTIC.) but assholes in California who want to take rights away from other people are especially maddening to me right now.
I don’t care about what other people do with their uterus.
I can’t pass for 12.
I don’t have 7 siblings. Why? Because if my mom got pregnant 7 times, she would probably abort a few, so that they wouldn’t be deprived of love or attention which would lead to them being completely fucking insufferable by 20.
My business partner has never campaigned for Mike Huckabee. Way to back a winner, kiddo.
I’ve never ripped off the title of the #1 gay interests magazine in the world, to try to make people read my right wing (and based on the Huckabee connection, I think anti-gay is a fair assumption) propaganda.
I don’t call sneaking a camcorder in a hoodie, “hard hitting and investigative.” I call it a camcorder in a hoodie. My friends and I used to do this shit in grade 9. You’re an adult. Grow the fuck up.
I’ve never phoned an organization, made incredibly racist comments in an attempt to make them say something racist back, then called them racist when they are willing to accept a donation from the racist prick on the phone. They are a charity. If you offer them money, they will take it. That doesn’t make them racist, that makes them a charity.
I’ve never broken California’s wire tapping laws. I’ve also never impersonated the victim of a crime.
My name doesn’t make people want to punch me in the face. Over and over again. Like that scene in Sin City where Bruce Willis makes the yellow guy turn to goo.
I have never taken it upon myself to try discredit an organization that helps millions of women every year. Abortions account for 5% of the services provided by Planned Parenthood in the United States. If you care about babies, volunteer at an orphanage. Become a foster parent. Go overseas and help the kids starving to death and dying of preventable illnesses. Do something useful with your life. If you’re anti-abortion, don’t get an abortion, it’s that simple.
Anyways, I really really hate this girl. I always thought my generation was more tolerant and less ignorant than past generations. This…person, discredits this theory altogether. Feel free to email her and explain to her why she fails at life.
Maybe you’ve seen her on the TV, perhaps you’ve seen her in the papers, or you might have seen her roving the streets on Halloween- wait that’s just little kids in scary masks, but once you’ve seen her you never forget. Here’s a candid look at why you are better than the bastard child of improper plastic surgery.
Craig Ferguson has never repeatedly used you in a comedy sketch to repeatedly mistake my image with that of Kenny Rogers.
You are not referred to as the “Lion Queen” or “Cat Woman”. Just being called Cat Woman is insult enough to be put in the same category as Hally Barry. Ugh…
You have never had a capuchin monkey as your own personal slave. We know she says it’s her “pet”, but “fetching” martinis is not a “trick”.
You have never spent 4 million dollars- that’s 4,000,000 dollars, for plastic surgery, to come out deformed.
And remember, this is true to life: money can’t buy you everything, except when you want to look like a cat.
Hey America, this right here? This is why people make fun of you.
So most of you probably have no idea who this fellow is. In fact, I’m pretty sure that not a single person who reads this site knows who he is. Just take my word for it- I’m better than him.
I don’t write for the least funny thing on the internet.
I’ve never gone from writing somewhat witty commentary, to just writing about how much I enjoy tits (look, I have them, yes they are super, but there are other less boring things that can be written about).
Some of the things (not all, as evidenced by this post) I write are socially relevant.
I don’t make Julia Allison seem insightful by comparison.
If I listened to Slipknot, I wouldn’t put one of their songs on my myspace, because I wouldn’t want people to know about it.
I don’t have gross tattoos.
I don’t wear baseball hats in an attempt to cover my hair (or in his case, lack thereof).
I’m not what frat-douches everywhere aspire to.
I don’t have the worst blog on WordPress.com, he does however have the worst blog on Fat Penguin Media.