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| See, I'm not gaycist... I put flaming dark stuff in muh mouf too |
Can you feel that? It's the sound of today being exactly one month since the Shamblette's began, and Monday having been my birthday. Feels like it's been longer right? Kinda like a baby dick in your ass, you know there's something up there that's been going on for a bit, but when you get down to the nuts and bolts you realize you want more... and more is what you're gonna get, Hobags. Cuz now that we're a month old we're bringing out new features, new friends, and we not cutting away before the money shot.
But before we let all that new settle in for good next week, let's keep our horribly dyed roots intact and enjoy the feature that started it all (well, started spreading the Shamblette's word like Ellen's legs at a lezzie clambake). That's right, trainrex... it's time for your Weekly Hot Messes... and this week, like all others before it, might need to be taken with antibiotics. So grab your fan and mop and take the jump onward to read about all the hottest messes to bless the Shambles while your bestie holds your hair back...
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PERSON: Casey Anthony
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Sorry Alanis Casey, not even that semi side pony can clear ur hot mess status |
Yes, she was acquitted or whatever, and it happened weeks ago I'm behind the times like Lindsay Lohan in gauchos... but that don't mean bitch ain't still shambled. Firstly, the Lady OJ of the 2000's can't apply for a job. What company, bank, organization, or other is gonna hire this Mommy Dearest? Hell, Hobag (and I do mean HOBAG) probs can't even get a job at the local Taco Bell. I can see it now, some stressed out mother stares up at the menu while the daughter she wishes she could allegedly kill and get away with screams on and on about cinnimon curls as Mom places her order to Casey: "Uh... can I get a number four... hold the murder, extra lie to the cops on the side". I don't think so, people. I give it two years until Casey, Snooki, Tila Tequila, and half the kids on Glee are playing patty cakes while waiting in line at the unemployment office for a job scrubbing floors at the Arby's on Sunset.
Oh, also... homegurl mights be free(ish) but there's that whole thing of people who disagreed with the verdict who WILL try to kill you whether you're at home or at Wendy's (sadly Baconators cannot stop bullets to the heart... trust). So have fun with that, Casey... and all the best to you trying to find another man, much less one that would wanna get married and have kids with you. Sorry, beech... But methinks I'VE got a better shot at that happening 200 years ago in West Virginia to a black man than you do at this point.
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| Dexter stop watchin' Glee and gimme a hand. Errr... foot. |
Sure... Serial Mom is gonna get bombarded with offers to tell her tale for major Octomom bucks... but if she's truly innocent it would have to be torture to A) realize you're a terrible parent for letting your 2 year old wander off and die mysteriously... and B) relive all this crap over and over again knowing that you'll never probs know what happened to your daughter AND there's still a killer out there somewhere who's sitting back in their dungeon of severed heads chillin' with Jean Benet Ramsey's parents whilst licking their knives and watching reruns of Castle looking for inspiration on how to kill their next victim with boredom.
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| This is sooo much easier than duct tape & lies |
Or, on the other hand, Hobag's guilty and has to learn the script to a T for fear of being like; "Oh, and then I drowned her while her mouth was duct taped and... oh shit I mean, I'm fine today thanks for asking".... also, Mother Grimm still has some time before she's officially released... and if any of us have seen the show OZ, we know that just because the state says you can go free doesn't mean there isn't some bull dyke or white power psycho willing to add another 20 years to their sentence to find a way to add the same to yours while raping your father and cutting off your son's hands.
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| I killed a Priest and got away with it... Bitch stole my technique. |
The lesson here is clear, sluts... don't kill your kids, don't lie to the cops, and most importantly... don't get caught. Oh yeah, also... don't be anything other than white unless you're named after a breakfast drink or your ass isn't going anywhere but straight to don't-drop-the-soap-ville. Listen, it's terrible that a little girl is dead and the lying mother that probs did it is going free(ish), but it could be worse... you could be the latest Weekly Hot Mess, and that's something no amount of not-guilty verdicts or shout wipes can clear away. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PLACE: The Post Office
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| Stop smilin', bitch... Who the fuck is next? |
Why oh why is it that the only people who seem to work at the post office are Asian women that look like Miss Swan with their graying bob-cuts of death, black bitches who in any other setting would be my best friend but for some reason working at the Post Office has taken away all their sass and love of fried foods, or old white dudes who look about a vowel away from skinning the next customer in line who doesn't fill out their change of address form before getting to the counter? Is there some secret screening process going on we don't know about? Come on, Obama you can tell us... we won't be mad.
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| Wha'chu mean delivery confirmation cost extra? Petition! |
It's a strange and baffling world that Post Office, and for all it's hidden treasures and Hill People patrons who make me wish I was death and could poke them over and over again for their annoyingly dumbassness, I will never understand it. I mean what gives? Every time I go to this dungeon of shoot-me, not only is there's always some kind of drama to be had, but there always seems to be the same clientele.
Guaranteed the series regulars in line include: "I wish you were cuter" tank top unibrow guy, angry black woman trying to start a petition for how long it's taking to send her nieces and nephew's their Spongebob pajamas, and old woman in a diaper who keeps farting and might have just shit herself but no one is rude enough to call that bitch out for fear of being called out themselves for parking in the handicapped spot because it was all that was open (even though everyone here seems to have some handicap of the mental or physical kind). Obama you can tell us too if that trilogy of disaster is part of some Post Office security task force there to make everyone's life hell to try and boost up Fed-Ex and UPS' stock.
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| That's an amazing story, Ruth... really. NEXT! |
Cerealously... In a world of emails, cell phones, and Fedex, I fear that the reason these hot mess locales maintain their steaming stockpile of Shambles is because for the rest of us who are so 3000 and 8, the peeps who frequent the PO are so 2000 and late and don't realize how outdated the system is becoming.
On the other hand, it's kinda sad to see that lady (me in 5 years) who seems to be at every post office who won't shut the fux up about this or that or the rising prices of stamps because she's so lonely in her life that the only human contact she gets is at the post office with Miss Swan who A) can't understand half of what that crazy pale white bitch with the Duggar family haircut is talking about and B) doesn't give 2 shits and a fug about the parts she does comprehend. I truly fear for generic lonely lady and hope that I'm wrong about her desire for human connection and only being able to find it at Satan's stamp shitting butthole.
And with that I'll say "next in line" and move on, cuz there's nothing more I can say on this cesspool of envelopes and Shambles other than "bless"... but something tells me not even that is gonna be enough this time. :(
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THING: Public Drinking Fountains
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| All yours, Boo. Watch out though cuz I missed. |
I'll make this quick since my point is easy here. Is it not true that you don't wanna use a public toilet when you see the person before you who used it? I mean, you wanna pretend like no one nastay has been there, right? But sadly when you've waited in line 30 minutes and then a big nast bitch comes out followed by a flush and a whiff of shit so rank it'll melt your face off, you might reconsider holding it, but strangely know you can't... so you enter into the Hell awaiting you and hope upon hope that the seat isn't warm... water fountains follow that same rule, mmkay?
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| Gross... this water tastes like nuts! |
It's Shambled, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do... sometimes you're on the brink of death and have no other option but to sip from the please-God-let-that-shit-be-cold fountain of Shambles at the gym or middle of nowhere park trail.
Still though, you don't wanna see some hobag with herpes on their lips just guzzling away and slobbing on the fountain like they're 14 and playing spin the bottle for the first time with some dude with braces... it's stank, it's nasty, it's a hot ass mess... but we all got a story or two to tell I'm sure so I'm sharing this warning post like we all share mouth scabies at the community fountain.
Please-to think of the above paragraphs the next time you decide to move off the couch and be active without taking a water bottle or 2 liter of Diet Dr Pepper with you to the wherever you work out. Cuz no one likes a seat warmed up by stranger ass, and no one likes a fluid induced herpes throat unless the probe that supplied said fluids was attached to Jason Stackhouse's lower half. TRUTH!
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I thought drinking fountains went the way of pay phones long ago...
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