Daily Archives: January 13, 2009


Why is this bitch as famous as she is? I’m seriously disturbed by this phenomenon.

First of all, she was a Christian artist that went by the name of Katy Hudson before she went and tramped it up in the secular world as Katy Perry. Now, I’m not a bible-humping conservative, by any means. But come on! You have to admit it’s kind of shady to go from writing songs about keeping your faith in god to singing anthems that inspire young women to get gang banged on the Girls Gone Wild bus (i.e. “I Kissed A Girl”)

The fact that the queer community has so lovingly embraced her is what really makes me break out in a rash. If they really listened to her songs they would realize that they are totally demeaning to homosexuals.

Oh, what. You don’t believe me? Well, then let’s just take out the ol’ magnifying glass and have a closer look at her “clever” and “witty” songs, shall we?

Example #1: “I Kissed A Girl”
A story about a girl out on the town who has a couple drinks, cautiously makes out with another girl in the hopes that their boyfriends will be aroused by it and ends up not finding it as icky as she thought she would, only because she was able to tune out said make-out session by focusing on her victims cherry chapstick… What?! Lesbians should be on the hunt to curb-check her for this atrocious drivel-piss. I’ll take Jill Sobule’s hum-drum 90’s one hit wonder of the same name over this tripe any day. (I like to imagine how the song would have ended up if the girl was wearing a bland chapstick, like Carmex or Blistex, instead of the inticing cherry flavored variety. Talk about raising the stakes.)

Example #2: “Ur So Gay”
Katy gets dumped by a boy that looks better in her American Eagle jeans than she does. What does she do to seek her revenge? She writes a song about how much she loathes her ex by saying he is “so gay”, in which she uses the word “gay” as a substitute for “stupid”, or maybe even “retarded”. Hey Katy? Why all these lame ass attempts at shock value? Why not just go the full monty and call the song “Ur a Total Fag”? Cause that’s all I’m hearin’.

She may look like a Karen O/ Zooey Deschanel mash-up, but the similarity ends there. I think she is a fraud and an extreme threat to the youth of America, if not the entire planet.

In closing, if you are gay and genuinely enjoy Katy Perry’s music then I feel really sorry for you. If you have her CD, then I suggest you use it as a Frisbee, or a nice reflective surface to snort coke off of. (And I don’t mean cola)

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, lets watch a video of her making a complete ass out of herself! Yay!!

HA! Awww. I love you Youtube.


Bono’s Guest Editorial

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times…


I’m in a real whatsit in a D.C. pub on New Year’s.  Beer bottles binging banging, bishing bashing in gay rapidity: booze-sopped floors, sweetheart hands groping for that Auld Lang Syne, political lines being drawn and redrawn.  Whiskey whimsy and hoppy heartbreak are all in the ol’ queue to be served on this, the quarter-century mark since I first realized I was Jesus Christ in a pair of wraparounds.


Interesting mood.  The new bail money has been gambled and lost, the Catholic lion is wrapping his lips around the sheep’s tail, ready to fling peace into the next year, while the politicos purse theirs’ and grimace at 2008.  There is a voice that echoes through the hall, shot from the jukebox’s bowels: that of Frank Stallone.  Everyone in the room sings every syncopation for a lifetime of reasons.  But I am the only one who notices this: I just turned my glass of wine into a pint of Guinness.


Is Stallone’s waterslide of a voice a clue to the next year?  In the grassy knoll of your business life, your love life, your life life, why is this voice such a wet t-shirt contest — such erect nipples in nervous times allowing you respite but knocking you right in your ugly mug, if you get too carried away. 


A call to chastity.


A voice that says, “Even Irish rock stars get STDs.”


That says, “Baby, give me some nobility, some virginity.”


Fascist, nay fatalist.  A cloistered celibacy that rages in the gut.


As the year turns over in bed (rolling to The Edge), the emotion in the bar swivels between hope and nope, expectation and exportation.  Wherever you end up, Stallone’s voice is the one you wake to, hung-over as all shit.


Now I am back in my own mansion in Dublin, uncorking a bottle of wine worth $5,000, ready to rage against the dying of sobriety.  Above the marble floors of the cellar, I look up to see a portrait in halo: Frank Stallone.  Right next to this is a vision of prophecy: myself walking on the water, calming the seas of file-swapping and rolling away the stone, prodding the Lazarus music industry to walk once more.  I, Bono, as weathered as a Joshua tree, as revered as the Bible, will live to rule the year 2009.



Bono, lead singer of the band U2 and co-founder of the advocacy group ONE, is a contributing vomit pile.  However, he didn’t really write this.  He did write this equally ridiculous crap.


Video: Frank Stallone “Far From Over”