Still more of my chillingly accurate predictions for this year have already come true:
I predicted that Michael Phelps would get his nipple caught in the wringer of fame, and look; he gets busted taking bong hits in South Carolina. Now that shouldn’t be a big deal. We’ve got a president that freely admits that he used to do coke back in the day, but Kellogg’s is talking about dropping Phelps as a spokes model, just be cause he smokes a little pot. Kellogg’s!
Stop me if I’m wrong, but 60 to 70% of the cereal in this country is eaten by stoners. Kellogg’s shouldn’t be dumping him. They should move him off the Corn Flakes box and stick him on something good like Coco Crispies.
In fact, it’s high time Kellogg’s got a little edgier with their ads. Stick Phelps in his little fey Speedo with a huge Rastafarian wigs on, sucking off a huge pipe made out of the skull of Amy Winehouse on the front of a box of Apple Jacks.
Aim right for their P1 demographic. How about a nice picture of Robert Downey, Jr., his pants caked in vomit, the phone number of pre-op tranny craved into his arm, mistakenly passed out in the bed of his neighbor’s 10 year-old daughter on the front of box of Mini Wheat’s.
Take that lame ass frog off the front of the Honey Smacks box and throw a shot of Lou Diamond Phillips, hiding in the bushes, waiting to OJ jump his ex-wife and Melisa Etherege as they come out of their Lamaze class… Alright, maybe I’ve gone overboard here, but you get the idea.
Now another one of my predictions was that our esteemed Governor, Duval Patrick, much like the Ground Hog, would stick his furry little head out this February and do something asinine, and look; just the other day Gov. Patrick announces he wants a tax on Candy, Booze and Juice Boxes… Candy, Booze and Juice Boxes? You know, it’s a good thing Michael Jackson doesn’t live in Massachusetts, because he’s already have fanatical problems and if he lived here the price of his typical Saturday afternoons in the park just went through the roof!
Hey, every other gaggle of worthless crap in America has an advocacy group; who’s looking out for the pedophiles?… I mean besides the Pope. You know? When FBI digs up your back yard with earth movers to look for bodies, they don’t put the dirt. You have to do that yourself… I’m told.
Another of my predictions came to fruition this week as well. Last year I predicted that not only would Obama win, but he would lead the charge for the international douch-a-fication of America, and what happens this week? Iran announces that they are sending a weapons satellite into space, so the Obama Administration responds by announcing they are sending the US Badminton Team to Iran. That’s true. The US Badminton Team is going to Iran. That’ll fix their little red wagon.
Actually, I can see what he’s doing here. Rather than take some the macho George Bush approach, and start bomb them back to the Stone Age (not a long trip, I might add), Obama figures if he shows our enemies what a huge bunch of douche bags Americans really are, they’ll figure we’re not worth the bother and just leave us alone.
Iran put in place the technology to rain death down from above and we respond with freshly scrubbed co-eds that serve a mean shuttlecock. And if North Korea wants to jump ugly with us, let’s just unleash our Mathletes on their shores to show them what for.
And I pity poor Iraq. Our troops are going to be withdrawn, but Obama is giving serious consideration to replacing them with a wicked good Dungeons and Dragons squad and if that does prove to the world what a bunch of douche bags we are, he’ll unleash his Ace in the Hole: a legion of self-important, smug face book bloggers with nothing better to do with their time and run their greasy, type 2 diabetes swollen fingers over their keyboards, humping prose no one will bother to read. That’ll show ‘em.
Christian Bale was right, stay the fuck out of my sight line, would ya?
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