Note to Mssrs. Seagal, Chan, Jagger, Stallone, West et. al - FUCK OFF.

It doesn't take a Jedi Master to trick someone into buying shit they don't need. Sad to say, but celebrity endorsements or celebrity driven products do well enough and then hopefully plummet like the stars that wanted/needed their third rate shit to sell.

Here are a few examples:

Steven Seagal: This once proud and imposing action star has been reduced to a reality show that's been mired in legal issues even before it airs. He may be a bona fide martial arts master, but he is also a black belt in douchebag.

Dude - "Asian Experience?" Shouldn't that be "Long Island/Staten Island Guido Wannabe Experience?"

Jackie Chan: I used to like his movies, but then it became apparent to me that while Jackie Chan may not be a mean-spirited cunt (see above), he has taken so many shots to the head to actually believe that he's a great singer. He also needs to be beaten into a permanent state of retardation just for agreeing to star in "The Kung Fu Kid," a remake of "The Karate Kid." He went from international action star to international house bitch. He's also selling his own line of instant green tea If you go to that Amazon.com link, the funniest bit isn't Jackie Chan selling green tea - it's the "Customers Who Bought This Also Bought" section. Instant chicken soup, green tea, sweat bands, gummi bears, cheddar cheese soy crisps, beef jerky, and toilet paper. Man, if that's not a pothead's shopping list, I don't know what is.

Kanye West: I never liked this douchebag, but when he lost his shit on MTV recently (and if you need a link for that, please do us all a favor and die in a fire), I was forced to look back on this floating loaf. Where the fuck would he have been without Daft Punk's "Harder Better Faster Stronger?" I thought Sean Combs was the worst talentless bitch who kept biting off of other artists, but I was wrong. Oh yeah, Kanye West has his own travel agency.

The Rolling Stones: These rock & roll legends need to go back to roots, and by that I mean composting themselves. When is the last time you remember a NEW Rolling Stones track hit the airwaves instead of being used to hawk Kahlua, greeting cards, and other sundry bullshit?

Don't worry, I'll wait for your answer.

But apparently The Rolling Stones weren't rich enough, so they decided to hawk their own fucking wine. They're not as greedy as The Beatles, and I for one would love to have Mark David Chapman given early release to whack Paul and Ringo. Fuck those greedy cunts.

Sylvester Stallone: The cast list for his new movie "The Expendables" reads like a who's who of action star legends - real and film: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Jet Li, "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, Dolph Lundgren, Mickey Rourke, Randy "The Natural" Couture, Antonio Rodrigo "Minotauro" Nogueria, and shitloads of cameos. The plot isn't really going to matter. There will be better plots in Arlington, but Stallone is milking his once good name for more flicks and more HGH. The ironic thing is that he has his own line of sports nutrition supplements, "InStone." Yeah, I'm gonna buy supplements from a guy who freely admits to using Human Growth Hormone. He even had 'high protein pudding" in different flavors presumably selected to appeal to people who eat pudding. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have anything to do with Sylvester Stallone's high protein banana cream pudding.

The Worst Goddamned Album PERIOD.

Sweet friggin Jesus, all I wanted to do was to read the paper with my girlfriend in Borders. Seriously. That's it. I can deal with the hyperactive ankle biters flailing around, their nannies/parents who don't give a crap about how atrocious their spawn are acting, the emo bastards shuffling through life, and the ultrafabulous (and clueless) meatsacks who are bitching about shit to no end on their ultrafabulous cell phones. Hell, I can even deal with the bloated gelatinous mass of recycled Cheetos, Yoo Hoo and Jolt reading comic books, because I like comic books, HOWEVER, I don't leave a wake of junk food and armpit musk for all to enjoy. Goddamn, how expensive is Old Spice now?

I can deal with all of that, but when my girlfriend starts to ask how does a books & music store determine what music to play in the store, I figured it was getting on her nerves. Then when I realized that she wasn't reading as much as holding her head in her hands trying to drown out the sounds of mediocrity that I figured she was gonna lose her shit. Let's put things in perspective for a moment. When I lose my shit, people generally know within a few feet at least. It doesn't surprise some people when I go off like an overcaffeinated Lewis Black (my inspiration and hero). But when I see my girlfriend lose her shit, I know it has to be really fucked up.

We both wanted to ask a clerk what cd was playing, slap the holy bejeezus out of the clerk, rip the cd out of the player and shatter it. We had no idea what the buggery bollocks it was, and all we remember was that they didn't so much as cover a Beatles track as they raped it with slack key guitar. I love real country music (Randy Travis is the shit), adn this wasn't country. A track or two later, the "artists" saw fit to do a simiilar raping of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Throughout this audio torture, my girlfriend pleaded with me to shut up and stop with the potty mouth. Ummmm.... nope. At this point in time, the football has been passed to the President, and it's on like muthafuckin' Donkey Kong. If some smarmy little clerk comes up to me and asks me to shut up, I'll ask him to put on some friggin' Van Halen (NOT Van Hagar) or Kiss to drown out the crap.

Another point to understand: my girlfriend and I share a masochistic love of shitty music. When we started dating, as a gag I got her a couple cds loaded with some heinous covers like Cassius Clay singing "Stand By Me," and William Shatner singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." I told her that William Shatner did an album called "The Transformed Man," and she made me hunt for it. This is one reason why I love her. She couldn't bring herself to listen to Pat Boone's collection of Heavy Metal covers ("In A Metal Mood"), nor will she listen to David Hasselhoff. However, if William Shatner is coming to New York, we're there. I paid money for a David Koresh (Yes, that David Koresh) cd. You gotta love an album title like "Voices of Fire." This album, "Volume One" by She & Him was worse than all of that. Apparently I'm supposed to be impressed by the fact that Actress Zoey Deschanel thinks she can sing. I will not link to this album, because I hope in earnest that this album goes down quicker than Elliot Spitzer's career. If you see this album in a "staff picks" section, Inquire as to the mental health requirements of their staff. If you are curious about this album enough to listen to it, wash your ears out with some Madeleine Peyroux, BT, or Hapa.

Yay! Another Reason to Hate Yoko Ono!

Sweet googly moogly, what the blessed fuck is going on with Yoko Ono?  It's not bad enough that this bitch of questionable talent is riding her dead husband's name (cough - Courtney Love- cough), and it's not bad enough that she's tea bagging of the memory of the Beatles with Cirque du Soleil Vegas glitter, but this bitch has to rape the environment as well.

Oh whoopee.  

I usually go to TreeHugger to see how I can help the environment, things to avoid, and products to support for their good karma.  They posted this wonderful reason (source: ContactMusic) to bitch slap Yoko so hard, she'll think she got fisted by Godzilla.  I guess giving peace and love a chance is cool with this dried up goat as long as she gets to rape the environment in her Bentley Armitage.  

Someone please dip this bitch in caustic lye, dump her in a compost pile, and take a shit on her.  Believe you me, I'm all for good karma, but for the way she's shitting on John Lennon AND her inability to understand that we must do what we can to save the planet, I hope Yoko Ono's last memory is trying to scrape the dough for meth.