For all the Hollywood Ho’s out there, you’re probably bathing in a pool of your own self righteousness right about now. The man who inspired a nation of people with moving roles in films like Lords of Dogtown and 10 Things I Hate About You. The man who proved that even in death, you can move mountain (uh… Broke… Back… nevermind). The man who will surely ecliped the legend of Jesus and his water to wine trickery, and live in lore for eternity. I’m talking about Heath Ledger ladies and gents… he won!

Now besides the fact that I think he did a fantastic job as the Joker, we all know he wouldn’t have even been nominated had he not died. Comic book movies never get recognition in legit categories and everyone knows that, it’s an unwritten rule. Ledger is probably rolling in his grave right now knowing that he’s been used as a marketing prop for not only the Oscars, but DVD sales for every movie he’s ever been in (like how they moved him to the cover of “I’m Not There” immediately after he died, when he was probably the 10th most important actor in that film).

Most upsetting to me was that they didn’t bring him out to accept the award! I’ve seen Weekend At Bernies, I know what’s possible with a little creativity and some CGI. Get that man on the stage and let’s do it right, ya know? Why am I the only one with any good ideas? Either way, he couldn’t have looked more dead than Sophia Lauren introducing Meryl Streep, am I right? (See photo top left, you could easily imagine that being her and not him, right?)

But more important than inspiring a whole new generation of drug addicts, this win finally answers the age old question - Who is the more successful ho’ from Dawson’s Creek? Looking at this from the all important Dawson’s Creek angle, we can finally prove who the more important whore was between Jen and Joey. Although both their husbands are dead (everyone knows Tom Cruise died after Top Gun), Heath Ledger now has an Oscar, Tom Cruise has a couple of Golden Globes, which we all know is just a pity award (like your “Participation” ribbon from track and field, fat ass). I predict TomKat has already fallen into self-destruction mode upon hearing this news and it will surely only be a matter of time before Xenu Cruise blasts off back to whatever planet he came from.

Ledger officially proves that to be adored by millions in North America, all you need to be is - young, good looking, addicted to drugs and DEAD. Way to send a message role model!

Came across a list of the 100 Most Likely People To Die In 2009 on Cinema Blend today, thought I might share the wealth.

Most notable exception of course is that Shaneequa Bobble-Head (because that bitch’s head is always on a swivel, am I right?) Tyra Banks.  If it’s not possible to die from sheer ‘tude, I’m almost sure someone will be so fed up with her shit one of these days - enough so to spike her Slim Fast shakes with cyanide.  (… and I know just how to do it.  Uhh… I mean…)

P-Sway at numero six is a little pessimistic, I’d like to think he’ll be gone and out of everyone’s hair by mid-February at the latest. Here’s hoping.  Also, I’d be surprised if Gary Busey (#51) makes it through the night.

My most favouritest is definitely number 35!  The Iron Sheik has become my personal hero over the last year or so.  He’s made so many appearances all over YouTube, usually crying and/or raving about Chris Benoit’s murderous ass (Easter Egg: Notice CNN lists murdering your wife and 7-year old child as “Story Highlights”).  ”Sheiky-Baby” is the only man on earth who can go from screaming to crying to screaming faster than “celebs” are jumping on the Scientology bandwagon (Travolta killing his son, for the win!). Apparently Sheik has done a lot of Howard Stern appearances as of late, which has boosted his status. Too bad I don’t care because Howard Stern is so 1999 (seriously, when is THAT guy gonna die? I hear Syphilis is the new silent killer).

Least likely to come true? #85 in your program - Irving “Magic” Johnson. Everyone knows his insides were replaced with robot parts in the 90s. No one has AIDS for 32 years, sorry.  We’re on to you pal.

In the “Sorry To See You Go” department, we have Angela Landsbury at #49 of “Murder She Wrote” fame (define “fame”).  I know Dan will be most upset since that was definitely his favourite show growing up, next to “Dear John”.  At least she’ll be solving crimes up in heaven.

Finally, I love how Barack Obama at #10 is so much higher than John McCain at #88.  Eat that Matt Damon!

Enjoy.

I’ve decided I hate Rachel Ray.  She is probably the second most irritating person on television, behind Tyra “Fivehead” Banks (of course).  How do people sit through this woman’s show and not want to punch something?  She is so loud and obnoxious.  I’m actually getting really upset as I write this.

Watch this video.  First of all, stop bashing your husband.  The sheer fact that he’s married you and continues to put up with you, tells me he probably partially retarded.  And everyone knows how I feel about making fun of retards.

But just look how excited she gets about taking the silk off of a corn.  So excited she proceeds to have sex with said corn.  Gross Rachel.  As Tyra might say: “You nasty girl”.

Also notice the awkward “cheers” the old broad does at the end (especially evident in the slow motion part).  Looks like she’s trying to lightsaber Ray-Ray, and with good reason (her high pitched laugh has threatened the structural integrity of the Death Star).

This video also reminds me of an unrelated joke…

How do you starve a black guy?  Put his food spamps in his work boots (Bud Ump Cheee).

I’m off to Vegas for the weekend.  Enjoy yourselves.

Usually I don’t like to mix business and pleasure, but the stock market is doing so shitty, I think I’m going to have a collapsed lung by the end of the month. The TSX is falling faster than Sarah Palin’s IQ (Note, I refrained from using the obvious “Paris Hilton’s Skirt” joke there).

For an idea of how poorly the market is doing, check yesterday’s “Draw Dicks” news report (DrawDicks.com), which clearly illustrates a white-uncircumcised penis over top of the TSX’s 1-month history. Check out how saggy those balls are, that pretty much sums it up right there.

You crazy rich girl.
What happened when you are young?
“Touched by an Uncle”?

Well not quite. But seriously, die already!

My real gripe is with Entertainment Tonight who broke the story of Swayze’s imminent death back in the beginning of March 2008.  The headline was “Patrick Swayze, 4 Weeks to Live” and was delivered by none other than TV’s favourite wench Mary Hart.  Well guess fucken’ what?  Buddy is still alive and kickin’.  Boooooring!  I declare first-rate shenanigans on that bogus adventure.

Truthfully though, don’t you think Mary Hart would look much more attractive swimming in a vat of molten lava?  I’m just saying.  I really think tabloid reporters should all be herded into a murder-shower and have it broadcast on live TV.  Who else would find that wildly entertaining?  We can bill it as a comedy and charge $20 a pop for the DVD version where I do the narrative and we’ll play the Benny Hill theme song over it! (Trademarking that idea, just so you know)

The best quote I read from P-Sway when discussing his death - “I’m a miracle dude - I don’t know why”.  First off, there is only one guy who can call himself a “dude”, and that’s THE DUDE.  Secondly, who even talks like that?  I know you were in Donnie Darko, but seriously, now you’re comparing yourself to Christ?  I don’t think the Christians are gonna like that one pal!  The only ones performing miracles around here are J.C. and Tom Cruise (that’s what Scientologists do, right?).

The fact remains, Swayze stared in some really crappy movies and now he’s totally pulling a Magic Johnson on everyone.  I don’t like it… not one bit.  If this doesn’t end soon, I’m seriously going to bop Swazey and Mary Hart’s heads together like Moe did to Larry and Curly.

Then we’ll see who’s dying! (Dying like a fox!)

Shocking, I know!

So I work in a heavily Asian-populated city (starts with an “M”, ends in an “arkham”) and it seems every morning as I motor to work, I’m delayed by a row of cars rubber-necking an intersection crowded with city’s best drivers who ALWAYS seem to be Asian!

Let’s investigate the facts…

1. You live in a “heavily Asian-populated city”, clearly most accidents are going to be by Asian people!
X, WRONG! I’ve had many-a-jobs, none of which were in Markham, none of which yielded this kind of morning drive.  Sorry, but I drive a lot, and I never see as many accidents as I see in Markham.

2. You could be racist.
X, WRONG!  Actually, no… you’re probably right.

3. Insurance rates are higher in Markham
Coincidence? Me thinks not!  Now I’ve never actually confirmed this, but I heard it from a very reliable source (your mom! no… but still)

4. Slanty eyes
Ya, I said it! It’s not racist, it’s just factual. Though I’m not sure less eyeball exposure is related to crappy motoring skills, but this is the ONLY place I’d have the balls to point that out, so-mm-doin-et.

You would think Asians would be great at hand-eye coordination too! Karate anyone? Have you seen Enter the Dragon? Fucken fists of fury son!

Hold up, is “Asian” even the right term these days?  I know you’re not supposed to say “Oriental”, but I never know for sure. “Nip” is a big no-no too right?  Apparently I’m not up to speed on my PC-phrases.  Whatever, I’m just a “WOP”, what do i know? (Other than how to fix up Mustangs and IROCs and order bottle service at Ultra - Gray Goose only)

Fake hair is your bag
Your forehead is really huge
The devil says “hi”

So I arrive at work today, just kind of lounging around outside, soaking up the 9:00am air (because that’s super early for me to be at work, so I was basking in my earliness, read: greatness). What do I see? A Chinese (Asian, whatever) kid jogging!

This kid must have been about 11! JOGGING! But it doesn’t end there. About 20 seconds later, another kid jogs by, probably his little brother - must have been about 9. Now you’re thinking “Nine years old and jogging… wow”. But my friends, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself - yet another brother runs by, who had I been a pedophile, would have made me cream… max age - 7!

I mean, I’m guessing at ages here, you never can tell with the Chinese, they could have been 40 for all I know. (I kid the Chinese! Jeez. I can make racial jokes because I have Chinese friends… that’s how it goes right?). But still, why is a 7 year old kid jogging?

I’m all for fitness, don’t mistake me for a lazy 26 year old slob. I get to the gym regularly and I play weekly sports. But I’m going to go against everything I believe in and say - do these kids not have some video games they should be mastering? I’m sure that cunt Zelda has got herself into some unescapable trouble again.

I know fitness is important, but cammon, they’re practically in diapers. Is this what our society has become? Obsessed with fitness? Is that even healthy?

Perhaps these kids just got out of a Kumon meetup and needed to stretch it out? Whatever, I’m just saying.

EPISODE I - THE PHANTOM MUSICIAN

This story takes place in a galaxy far, far away. In a little nightclub on Queen Street West - Tattoo Rock Parlor.

This first time I heard of said bar, I was very quickly informed of the psuto-celeb presence working the bar. Now if you know me (and you don’t!), you’ll know I’m probably the least star struck person on earth. In fact, when seated at a Hollywood restaurant next to one Paula Abdul after a raping of America’s taste for good music, I almost felt like Paula should be awe-struck by MY presence. Certainly I was not even mildly enamored by her fifty-something self and her 3-5 twenty-something boyfriends.

That in mind, the “celeb” (and I use quotes because this man deserves no such distinction from moi) that everyone was buzzing about… a famous Canadian actor? Alan Thicke perhaps? No…

EDWIN

You read correct my young pups, Edwin! If you’re not familiar with this pompous ass-hat, don’t be ashamed. He sang in a semi-popular (and by popular, I mean playing-in-high-school-gyms popular) band by the name of I Mother Earth in the 90s and left that half decent band to record several shitty, mellow-dramatic records under the solo moniker Edwin.

Now at the time, I think “okay, so what?”. But after arriving at Tattoo, I begin to overhear the conversations of multiple douche-rod fembots and the occasional star-struck male equivalents telling their friends in their most excited voices about this “celeb” working the bar.

So after a long night of this non-sense and about 500 vodka/soda’s later, we retire to our swanky downtown hotel and call it a night. I didn’t run into Mr Edwin, but I knew this is the start of something awful.

EPISODE II - REVENGE OF THE DICK

Fast-forward a few weeks (okay it was the very next week - very lame, I know… actually - fuck you!). We arrive at Tattoo and have the pleasure of being seated for bottles in the basement (which is far less cool than the upstairs, don’t be fooled). After a long descent down the stairs, I enter the room, look to my left… my old nemesis - EDWIN.

We make eye contact… the stare down begins… silence… then music…

“I know this song… I know this… no, couldn’t be…”

You can’t write that kind of shit!! He looks away with the smirk a bratty kid gives you when he’s got away with pissing in your Nintendo. I laugh… and laugh… and laugh…

No doubt my nemesis thinks he’s still as bad ass as he ever was. Sir Edwin probably felt THAT was his crowning moment, as he no doubt felt I was in awe of him and his former glory. In fact, the truth is… his life couldn’t be anymore pitiful. FOR SHAME EDWIN!

Unless of course, he had the dubious distinction of having penned this cheesy Canadian rock ballad…

Oh wait a second…

EDIT:

After I wrote this, before I published, I discovered that my friend Edwin has a MySpace account! (turn your speakers off right about… NOW!)

Could my life possibly get any better?