- The Diary of Mitch R. Singer
- Hanging with the Goon
- The Consummate Politician Apologizes
- Rating the WWE's Roster by Their Stench
- The Esteemed Critic's Multiple Sentence Reviews
- Conan Brothers' Q&A
- Theme Park Mistress
- Hillsdale Paranormal Society
- Writer's Block
- Select Farmers Only Profiles
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Dude Looks Like a Lady
Yeah, that's me up there. Vince Neil, circa 1980 whatever. I guess I do kind of look like a lady. I don't know who was designing my outfits back then. Red leather pants. Some studs. The scraps of a shirt. And then that hair. Christ. You know how much hair spray was involved creating that do? I think I got more brain damage from Aquanet than hard drugs. Fuck, I know it. And look at those gloves. What am I, a motorcross driver? All in all, I look like the concubine of the Humongous in Mad Max.
I used to get picked up by both men and women in those days. Steven Tyler made a pass at me, back when he didn't look like the swamp thing with bitch tits. Man, the eighties were cool. Prince was the shit. Everybody did cocaine. Your mom, your dad, your uncle Larry. Hell, grandma was in the bathroom doing lines off of the counter. Ozzie was snorting anthills. Christ, Ozzie. What have you become, man? Sharon has to wipe his ass and spoon food into his mouth. That's why you don't marry a succubus.
This is me now. I look like somebody's dad who sleeps on the beach and calls everybody "dude." You know what, though? I'm rich as fuck. I own an arena football team. Strip clubs. Bars. I show up in the occasionally sitcom. I do what your dad would do if he had unlimited cash. Still, I long for the eighties. I've purchased three time machines and they all turned out to be shit. I'm currently trying to bribe Elon Musk and Stephen Hawking to put their giant brains together and get me back to where I belong. Because I don't belong here. Not me.
Cell phones. The internet. Rap music. All things I hate. Take me back to the paradise city, baby. I might bring Axle with me. He wasn't as big of an asshole back then. Maybe we can change the present. Kill Kurt Cobain before he offs himself and starts all this grunge shit. Man, music used to be fun! Rock 'n' Roll used to be about dressing up as a chick and puking all over strippers and putting makeup on your face. No more. Christ.
If anybody knows how to make a time machine, I will pay you my millions. Hit me up at Girlsgirlsgirls69@hotmail.com. I gotta go. There's a hotdog out there with my name on it.