They shoulda had a tractor trailer out back with extra chicken on ice! You know?
In case you were wondering, I’ve translated the smirks on the faces of the reporters. The translation reads: We didn’t try to interview a single white person for this story!
My Tumblr is not a Livejournal, and yet...
| You Act Like You Are 20 Years Old |
![]() You feel excited about what’s to come… love, work, and new experiences. You’re still figuring out your place in the world and how you want your life to shape up. The world is full of possibilities, and you can’t wait to explore many of them. |
Andrea Wachner is my hero. Really. She went to an uber-rich public high school (like me!) where the parking lot was lined with luxury cars and the kids were awful. Her high school experience seems to have been exactly identical to mine. So when she got an invitation to her 10-year reunion, she wasn’t about to attend. Instead of going, however, she sent a stripper in her place. This has prompted a new tag: best idea ever.
(via Neatorama)
I’ve been thinking about two things a lot lately: strippers and high school reunions. Did you know strippers in Vegas take in about $300k a year? Did you see the highlights from the 2009 pole-dancing competion? I did. I also ran across this amazing story about a aspiring comedienne who sent a stripper to her high school reunion to pose as her. What a beautiful thing. Truly.
Had a small what? A small bleep? You’ve got to be BLEEPing kindding me, Post! Famed for front page headlines like “A-Hole,” now the Post is suddenly too demure to elaborate on the filth that escaped Michelle Rodriguez’s mouth?
Rodriguez let loose this unicorn of an obscenity while attending the four-day event of her Best Friend’s Wedding. Already it seems more entertaining than the Julia Roberts film. Rodriguez, this could be your “sugar tits,” but everything hangs on what expletive you chose. “Rack” seems like the only appropriate singular noun one can use to epithetically describe a stripper, and that’s obviously not bleep-worthy. Did you come up with some other artfully vulgar way of saying that? Or were you in fact upset with the size of the stripper’s box?
Now that I’ve bothered to read the third paragraph of the story, I am shocked to see that she was talking about a male stripper. What the eff, Michelle? I know you’re probably envious of the graceful gigolo who elicited oohs and ahhs from the gaggle of bridesmaids you so desperately wanted, but that’s no reason to get snooty!
