smackheads write good and do other stuff good too

i'm such a sucker for documentaries. If someone had a 170 lb. tumor, i want to know about it in great detail. if someone smokes crystal meth on the regular in their mom's attic and she doesn't know about it until "captured" gets it on camera, i want to be there watching (from the comfort of my badass new couch.) If someone needs an intervention because they can't leave the house without touching the left side of the door frame 43 times in a row while singing "hyptnotize" by biggie, then i want to see what it's like to hang out with them for a few months via MTV. and if someone is getting new titties i better get to watch in the operating room (while hating on them because i still have the old tiny standard edition joints.)

anyway, the point of this post is to direct any fellow documentary junkies to junkylife.com where i go to get my fix of heavy drug use without the vile self-loathing that usually comes with it.

check it out if you think it's interesting when smackheads both glorify and hate on heroin in the same sentence.

Dear David Blaine

Dear David Blaine,

What is the fucking point?

Love,
Dee

holy fuck it is easily 80903943 degrees in here. the sun is streaming unstoppably through the window and making me feel like i might die.

so i was on thesuperficial.com just now and realized that I found Nicole Richie's long lost mother. (maybe she isn't long and lost to Nicole, but i sure as fuck don't know the bitch.)





How could we not have realized?

get out and VOTE, bitches!

money can't buy class...

...or a MTV Europe Music award, apparently.
I have to say, i'm actually kind of excited about finally being able to talk shit about Kanye West and have something non-subjective to back it up. I have always thought Kanye was wack, mostly because EVERY flow he has ever spit has exactly the same downward inflection which is fucking annoying. Plus his arrogance is actually visible in most pictures of him, kind of like Dr. Rey's gayness radiates from him on Dr. 90210. But I digress.

So Kanye doesn't win the best video award and by now we've already hear his pathetic ass quotes...but here they are again anyway, just for fun:

"Fuck dis! (My video) cost a million dollars, Pamela Anderson was in it, I was jumping across canyons and shit! If I don't win, the awards show loses credibility. Nothing against you (Justice and Simian, the award winners), but hell man."
Then he goes on to say:
"I haven't seen (the winning video). Possibly it could have been quite good but no way better than Touch The Sky. That is complete bullshit, I paid a million. Obviously it's not all about the money, but the response it got transcended everything, it really made great TV. It took a month to film; I stood on a mountain; I flew a helicopter over Vegas. I did it to be the king of all videos and I wanted to walk home with that award."


Dear Kanye,
If a million dollars, Pamela Anderson, and canyon jumping can't make your video worth voting for, then you are WACK. Spending money does not entitle you to awards. The point of Hip Hop is not spending money and being the king of videos. It's not flying in helicopters and trying to make good TV. In fact, it's the complete opposite. You aren't the "Savior of Hip Hop", Kanye, you are the direct cause of it's downfall. The Savior of Hip Hop will not be sponsored by Pepsi. End of fucking discussion.
Love,
Dee


Here is the link in case you want to follow along with the shit talking i'm about to do:

First of all, the beastie boys already beat you to the 70's style cut and zoom video with Sabotage, which happened, oh, a DECADE AGO. Not to mention that the song sounds like every other roc-a-fella beat and the lyrics don't flow at all. He doesn't seem to even hear the beat, much less ride it. and what the FUCK is up with the fake ass cardboard-looking rocket? is it a joke? how much did that shit cost? because if i were you, i'd ask Chris Milk for my million dollars back.

i survived the desert wilderness...

...but i got my ass kicked by a giant rock spire. i have all kinds of bruises on my legs and elbows, from the small scratchy abrasion kind to the giant black and green scary hematoma motherfuckers.

In the end i dominated the spire. In you face, nature. Tell ya friends.