I was searching around on the internet today when I stumbled upon one of the funniest videos I’ve ever seen. Krispy Kreme and Moneymaker Mike’s video “Hater’s Wanna Be Me” popped on my facebook feed and I just about died laughing.

Every single line this kids raps is highly quotable and me and my friends will for sure watch too many times.

His country accent and the way he raps is hilarious and this guy has a funny sense of humor saying things like,”Everybody gets scared when I front flip”, and “I could beat every single person in jail”.I definitely can’t wait til Krispy drops a mixtape.

I’m not even sure if the kid is serious or not but all I know is he’s funny a hell and cant wait til they drop another video. Thank you youtube for putting me on this interweb gem!!! Tosh.0 here they come.

Hey sweet a new Henry Rollins song called “Young Person”, awesome. Wow this music is pretty low key and sort of just sounds like that stuff that plays in the background of Apple video tutorials. I wonder when it’s gonna kick into gear, I’m looking to mosh. Wait, why is he just talking… hey what the hell is this? Is this just him talking? Why? Has he been hanging out with Jello Biafra again? My brain hurts.

On the one hand, this blandly positive message is a good one, I guess, but at the same time what the hell is the point of this? They don’t even reward us with a shot of Rollins. Not one! If he really wanted to get America’s youth into shape this would’ve been a video of him in his costume from Johnny Mnemonic, flexing his freakishly tendony neck, pointing a lot, and yelling. Now that’s an aspirational video I can get down with.

You know who’s getting STDs at a record rate? Not the Tumblr kids… their grandparents! Enough so that Safer Sex 4 Seniors just unveiled an unnerving and hilarious (intentional or not, your call) PSA for it.

In the past 5 years, the rate of STDs among active seniors has risen over 70%. This public service announcement promotes the importance of using condoms, illustrated by mature adults in various poses of the Kama Sutra.

Tell your Mee-Ma and Pep Pep to use a rubber kids.

Some guy named Mitt Romney keeps popping up in the main stream media. Have you heard of him? Well, whatever, he has this guy who used to be governor of Massachusetts. People tend to either love him or hate him. He’s running for president in 2012! That’s sooner than you think..so get familiar.

Someone from the internet is Hugh Atkins. He put together this craze mash-up/ dubbing track with Mitt Romney kinda “rapping” from all a mass compilation of edited footage from interviews, debates and other random footage. Hugh re-constructs the raw footage into unique verses that Romney Spits. I can’t believe he had the patience, and will power to sift through all that footage! The end result is cringe worthy and well edited. “Not a vulture, I’m an eagle”. Check it out party people!

Remember Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark? Remember being truly terrified for the first time in your life? Remember trying to sleep but being unable to get the image of the girl with the spider sac on her face cleaned from the back of your eyelids? I do! And I imagine a lot of you folks out there in internet-ville do too. I treasure those quivering, night-lited memories. You know who doesn’t? The fucking establishment man. Big brother HarperCollins is here to shit on all your terrified childhood wonderment.

For the 30th Anniversary Edition of Alvin Schwartz’ widely read story collection (which has probably single handedly payed for many therapist’s new cars), the publisher is replacing Stephen Gammell’s art. WHAT?! Bastards! Those drawings were the absolute best part about that book. The stories were fine, but those drawings were brilliantly twisted. That weird human balloon, the aforementioned spider girl, the rat dog, Harold the bloody scarecrow: all gone now, replaced by some bland bullcrap. The next generation of kids are gonna be real pussies. Is George Lucas somehow involved in this?

Other than remixing sixteen Ke$ha songs last year, André 3000 hasn’t been releasing much music. This saddens me. This saddens me because I really like André 3000 and Outkast. It’s like he’s just been doing nothing!..Or has he?

Gillette Fusion ProGlide Styler. Boom. Here he is. My boy Three Stacks, though seemingly up to not much, has really been spending time honing his craft, which now includes sponsoring razors. Or should I say, a 3-in-1 grooming tool. No, I think I’ll just say razors.

Who needs hip hop? Not me. Not André. We’ve got Gillette.

P.S. Adrien Brody is nicely transitioning his career from Oscar to “you know, that guy in that commercial.”

I… can’t… tell… what’s ironic… anymore uhhhhhhhh. Perpetual crush of dudes who weren’t cool enough to leave their flannel shirts unbuttoned and dated a girl for a while just because she had a killer zine collection, Kathleen Hanna, was recently listed as Set Designer (why?) for a NY based performance art group (huh?) for their show that is a recreation of an Insane Clown Posse concert (hey, what’s that burnt toast smell??).

The artist, Neal Medlyn, has done several performances like this apparently, recreating the experience of people like Prince and Britney Spears. But Wicked Clown Love is his first foray into the Faygo soaked masses. I was at the Portlandia live show last week, and Ad-Rock came out to play guitar for a couple of songs. People, obviously, asked him where his wife Kathleen was, which he laughed off. Now I know why. Because she was off somewhere painting faces, piercing her nipples, and debating the relative merits of the Joker’s Deck. Cool?

I thought it was pretty crazy when I got Kanye’s name tattooed on my inner bicep, but this woman sure as hell showed me up. Kanyeresa West, as she recently changed her name to, got Kanye’s name tattooed flat across her rump. She’s gunning for that girl who got Drake’s name tattooed on her forehead with this one.

Ladies, please; there’s room enough in this world for both of you to be irresponsibly obsessive.

At least she had the piece of mind not to get the tatt on her forehead. Well, maybe that’s giving her too much credit. It’s really going to be a shame if she doesn’t marry Kanye, as she intends, and instead some other guy is emasculated throughout their entire marriage.

In the video up top, DJ Moon Dawg asks Kanyeresa what she thinks of people that say she’s crazy.  “I say that they don’t know Kanye.” I’d say that you don’t know Kanye, Miss.

“Until he say ‘You’re crazy,’ or until he gets married, I’m gonna keep going.” Really? Does it have to be Kanye who says you’re crazy? I’m sure there are a number of other people willing to diagnose you as such. Oh well.

Merry Christmas, Reader. I hope you’re satisfied with all the fantastic Мишка gifts left under your tree. Or, conversely, I hope you’ve come to terms with why no one got you anything this year.

Christmas is a time for peppermint hot chocolate, wearing sweaters, and listening to Frank Sinatra, and no one knows this better than I, but today, in the spirit of not being too spirited, let us take a look at some of the really shitty parts of Christ’s birthday.

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Beat ‘Em Like Mike
Air Jordans are the best; there’s no question about it. Are they worth dying over? Apparently. This past week Nike released the Jordan Retro XI Concords and people literally killed for them (I’ve always wanted to do that. You say someone literally did something and they actually did do it. Like, you don’t mean it figuratively. Huh. This is great). Sneakerhead-on-sneakerhead violence erupted across the country where, in Atlanta, shoppers broke down the entrance to the mall, leading to multiple arrests, and in San Francisco, gunfire erupted and the sale was eventually shut down.

In Florida, police took a page from the Occupy Wall Street Book of Unethical Behavior and pepper sprayed rioting customers (though, here the pepper spraying  was a bit more justified), while in North Carolina someone was trapped beneath a glass door. The lamest account (and by lame I mean completely senseless because it happened over a pair of Jordans) comes out of Washington DC, where it’s been rumored that an eighteen-year-old kid was murdered over his Concords. That’s been confirmed, spread and then refuted, so who the hell knows? Let’s not get into if it actually happened or not, or the implications of this materialistic, exclusivity-based possible murder, but merely take a moment to appreciate our own Jordan collections.

Last night, on the eve of Christmas, a woman tried to make light of the Concord release, saying, “Did you hear about people shooting each other overs sneakers? Who even brings a gun to the mall?” She didn’t get it.

I told her, “Hey. Stop it. You don’t know about Jordans.”

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True Life: I Am Zelda
In a fascinating unveiling that has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas but because I don’t care I’m going to post it anyway, Nintendo recently published the official Legend of Zelda timeline. Apparently this is something fans have debated for years, and I guess if I think back to fourth grade I can remember being curious about where Oracle of Seasons fit in with Majora’s Mask. Here, it appears that following Ocarina of Time, the timeline splits into two, possibly because of time travel or something.

If you don’t want to watch the above video (for obvious reasons), check out this simplified version of the timeline. If you don’t care at all, then go eat some yogurt.

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Hey There, Sandusky Claus
A few weeks ago I posed the question as to how Santa ever became the mascot for our Lord Jesus Christ’s holy day of birth. I’ll admit, the idea was half-baked (not as funny as it could’ve been). Still, it is a question I am genuinely curious about. I’m snot sure how the association occurred; perhaps it was a story fabricated by a bearded priest after he was caught sneaking into someone’s home. After all, Santa Claus is essentially just a confused robber. He breaks in to your house in the middle of the night, but then, instead of stealing, leaves stuff behind. Eventually the milk and cookies (or scotch and ham sandwich, depending on your tradition) were added to the equation to make St. Nick a little less of a dope. Maybe that’s it (it’s probably not).

Kind of along the same lines, do you get Christmas cards from people? Lame relatives, square co-workers, whoever it may be, you know what I’m talking about: the long letters informing you of all the wonderful things that they and their family have been up to this year. They’re the worst. We usually don’t get them because no one likes my family, but this year some unknowing sucker decided to send us one. As it turns out, this guy is awesome. Obviously I’m quite the pedant myself, but this guy tops even me. Check it:

Seasons Greetings to All. [note the period]

Diane and I enjoy hearing from so many of you at this time of year as we remember friends from across the miles and years. While substantially less immediate and real-time than Facebook or Twitter, it does officially relegate us to senior status but also permits us to appreciate the wonderful blessings of our life. We’ve had another rewarding year in which Diane and I officially entered senescence for our first cruise from Southampton through Kiel Canal and did a reverse pivot of the Baltic via Rostock, Germany, and in the interstices of the trips we welcomes Sebastian Rocksworth – the prototype Amazon.

That’s the intro paragraph. The whole thing is great, but let’s skip to the very end, where it gets real pedantic and unnecessary:

So as not to permit accumulation of miasma on your Thesauri, I will calm your sussuri by telling you my lucubrations continue unabated but assure you there is no cure.

What exactly does that last sentence mean? “So as not to have you chumps rifling through your Thesaurus, I’ll go ahead and tell you that I will continue with my solemn literary work [this letter], but should let you know that there is no cure for my superior intelligence.” In other words, this guy is saying he’s not sorry for being way smarter than everyone else. And you know what? Neither am I. Merry Christmas.

I must apologize, Reader, for the lack of posts as of late. It must be killing you. It’s certainly killing me, not being able to read my own writing. Rest assured, this temporary absence from the Bloglin will soon be remedied. In the meantime, let’s debrief.

Pictures of Cats
Recently I found myself at a Holiday party. I had been lost prior to the gathering, confused about the “real me,” but then I found myself again. Jk. So I was at this party, looking great and decorating a gingerbread man, when I got a text. It was a picture of a cat. Yes, a cat. It was a cat that I did not recognize. Similarly, it was sent from a number that I did not recognize. I sent back a picture of the gingerbread man I was decorating. No response.

Yesterday, I was on a date (I was actually just sitting at home, but whatever. I’m cool.) when I received another picture of this cat. It was a picture of some little boy reading to the cat, with the caption, “Leo reading a book to the cat :-)” This was getting out of hand. “Who is this cat?” I thought. “And who is this little boy?” I figured this sender was a woman and that she was using these pictures as a means to hit on me. That would make sense. I sent back a picture of myself seductively reading in bed, sans shirt. The caption read: “Wanted: One cat.” Needless to say, she came over later that night, sans cat.

Hip Hop
This video right here – you see this video? Well this video for Blu‘s “Seasons” was first released over a year ago, seemingly in support of a new project, but an album never surfaced. I waited. I’m a huge Blu fan. He might even be my favorite emcee. Finally, two days ago, a follow up to 2007′s Below the Heavens was released (I know! I’m stoked! It’s great!).

The producer-emcee tandem’s latest LP, Give Me My Flowers While I Can Smell Them, is phenomenal. It’s not as polished and produced as Below The Heavens (with some people complaining that it is unmixed), and a couple of the songs in the middle are slightly dull, but the songs that are great are fantastic. Exile, again, delivers incredible production, with Blu’s flow and lyrics largely exceeding that of Heavens. The only downside to this release is that now there’s nothing better I could get on Christmas. Shucks.