(Fullsize of image here. If you really want to. Which you probably shouldn't because it's crap)
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What to talk about, what to talk about, what to talk about . . .
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I suppose in the intrest of making this blog a little more personal, more like this one, I guess I can just throw up a little enlightening personal opinion around and see where I end up.
So without further ado . . .
People Whom I Find Have The World's Most Punchable Faces!!!
(Ha! Totally gotcha with the whole "enlightening" thing there, didn't I. You were all like "Oh, it seems this might actually be worth read-andthenI'malllikePOW! In with the stupidity sucker-punch!)
Glenn Beck (Presenter of Lies and Scaremongering and More Lies, Fox News)
How can he look in his bathroom mirror every morning and not instinctively headbutt it?
He's a sensationalist right-wing presenter in the same way as Hitler thought the Jewish religeon wasn't really his "scene". But most infuriatingly is the fake crying he does in his shows.
I will rip out your tear ducts and strangle you with them.
I already have anti-fake crying sentiments thanks to my little sister in her younger years, but a grown man? He actively makes me want to beat him with something blunt and heavy until he mans the fuck up.
Ke$ha (Abomination, Music Industry)
Kesha, -can I call you Kesha? I'm getting the most terrible sore throat pronouncing the "$" part of your name- the thing is, and nobody seems to have told you this: You. Are not. Attractive like that. I know the words "rebellious", "break the mold", "bad girl", "some definitely do find you attractive" and "What I Want" are in your defence somewhere, but I'm just saying this. You look like a homeless person. Your "look" speaks volumes about you, and almost none of it is good. I'm sure you're a great person to party with, but outside of those few hours of my week, I would not want to be anywhere. Fucking. Near you.
And I hate your music. But for unrelated reasons. Like the fact that it's boring, pretentious, auto-tuned and forgettable, yet somehow overplayed at the same time.
Lady Gaga's Wardrobe (Assembled Piece of Wood, Lady Gaga's Bedroom)
How have you not caused grevious bodily harm to your owner for stuffing you full of meat, perspex, fireworks and puppet heads? How can you live with the shame that your shenanigans are causing an otherwise talented woman to spiral into a media circus all on her own? It. . . . it just makes me angry that the entire basis for the girl's fame is based in impractical, uncomfortable, downright dangerous outfits that have become a completely seperate entity to the wearer, who is being dragged along by their fame into a life of wealth and worth, despite the fact that the outfits could easily be replaced onto another singer-person, and nothing would have been changed except the face nestled slightly above the bubble-wrap dress, and some other poor struggling musician is still playing underground concerts for free.
Anderson Cooper (Head of Self-Importance, CNN)
For no obvious reason other than I hate his square, squinty face and I DON'T KNOW WHY!!! But due to the lack of english TV in my current location, this is the only face I can go to to get the morning's news before I go to work. So It may be the news I'm angry at. Not so much this guy.
Actually, scratch that. It's the guy's face. Definitely the guy's face.
Since the power of the internet has not yet advanced to the point of force-feedback, I need to ask all winners of this prestidious honour to give themselves a pat on the back, and a swift fist to the 'ole "boat race".
In the event of a person being unable to self-administer the punch, a nearby volunteer will suffice.
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That is it. Go and go commando for the day or something . . .
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