I'm Going To Be Famous One Day, And Goddess Bunny Will Be In My Entourage

Ladies and gents, meet Goddess Bunny transvestite tapdancer superstar.





I am fully convinced that one day I will be semi famous (in a Jeremy Piven kind of way. My fans know and love me, but I can still walk down the street) due to my acting or writing/directing. Right now my brother and I are working on a super secret script of a tv series that is pure genius, more on that later.

I have already decided that when I hit it big I will abuse my celebrity to seriously fuck with people, both literally and figuratively. I will make sure to go through the ranks of "It Girls" and Maxim pinups with a fervor that will make Wilt Chamberlin proud. I also plan on using my celebrity to get away with stuff a normal turd such as you guys wouldn't be able to do. First of all I have to assemble my entourage. So far I have decided I really want to have:

-Styles from Teen Wolf
-Michael Clark Duncan
-Goddess Bunny

in my posse. This is in addition to the normal friends, hanger ons, and current broads the star is banging that are in normal entourages. Picture these two scenarios and don't tell me they don't absolutely crack you up.

I want to buy an old German style motorcycle with a sidecar and just go tooling around Hollywood with me driving and Michael Clark Duncan hunched up in the sidecar. MCD would be wearing duster goggles and a flying scarf and I would have on a snorkel mask. We would just basically drive around Hollywood (or maybe even take this act to small towns across the country) and pull up at intersections. Look over at the people next to us but never say a word and when the light hits green just peel out leaving people going "Did I.....did...did I just see Carnonymous and Michael Clark Duncan?"

I figure having MCD in my entourage also will afford me a lot of protection since he has his swoll on. My bro and I also want to be "Hollywood Bad Boys" like Sean Penn back in the day. But we would only start shit with people we are sure we could beat up. So you would read stories about us showing up wasted to the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards and getting into a knife fight with Bea Arthur and Vern Troyer (Mini Me from Austin Powers), bad ass shit like that.

But the one thing I really want to do is get Goddess Bunny to go with us to a REALLY big awards show. I guess I'm getting ahead of myself though, because I am sure plenty of you are saying who the hell is Goddess Bunny. Goddess Bunny is a man (who is apparently now a woman) who was stricken with polio as a child and is now a huge star in the underground Hollywood gay/transvestite/freaky shit scene. He/She does these really fucked up videos, of which you can see a full one here.


Go watch it, at least the first part where there's tapdancing. Go ahead, I'm gonna go get a beer anyways..........

Okay you're back, freaky shit huh? Well picture this. It's The Emmys/Oscars, this super fancy supposedly serious awards show. This is the time when idiot actors like Ray Romano and Charlie Sheen try to pretend they are actually doing something that matters in life, they treat it like they're getting the Nobel Prize because they cured cancer. Due to an incident where I punched out 2/3rds of the cast of Laguna Beach at the MTV Movie Awards I'm on thin ice. All the networks have been told to watch me and make sure I don't do anything bad. So I arrive dressed up in a really nice tux, looking all good, being completely serious. Of course I have some hot broad like Angelina Jolie or Lindsay Bigcans on my arm (probably both). Everythings normal I'm saying all the right things, being polite, acting like everything's cool.....but then here comes Goddess Bunny tapdancing behind me.

How fucking funny would it be to see me on TV taking to that harpy Joan Rivers about whatever fucking designer I'm wearing, or some idiot MTV News reporter and in the background Goddess Bunny is just tap tap tappin away. Of course I won't say A SINGLE WORD about her, and she won't say anything. You know that's the only thing on the interviewers minds, but they'll be too afraid to ask anything about her.

Goddess Bunny will have a seat with my group at the show, but the whole time keep her trap shut. Then whenever we win an award we'll go up on stage and I'll have Michael Clark Duncan carry her up on stage like Emmanuel Lewis had done to him by Michael Jackson. He'll set her down and while I'm making my acceptance speech for Best Comedy Series she'll just start tapping away.

Maybe midway through the show when the host is making everyone snooze with their canned jokes (probably some turd like Ray Romano or Ellen Degeneres) I might encourage Goddess Bunny to jump up on stage and start bust into the robot behind the host. Once again everyone will be too weirded out to say anything about it, which would just be sooooooooooooooo fucking funny.

Jesus Christ I'm a genius.

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Frankies Inferno: Pic Of Frankie Inside (The Webster Chronicles)

Wow.....I...I still don't even know how to really explain what just happened here folks. This is probably the stupidest thing I think Frankie (my neighbors fat son Webster's brother) has ever done in his life.

Where to start? Well this past Saturday me and some friends were out drinking and I guess it was Karaoke night at the bar. Well as is the norm we were all drinking heavily. I think between 9PM and 2AM (when we got back to my pad) I must of had a good 25 drinks at least, and I was the most sober person in my group which was good because I was the designated driver safety first I always say. Well it appears Frankie was at the bar too, how he got a friggin fake ID I don't' know. Well Frankie gets up on stage and does this god fucking awful rendition of this Ashley Simpson song La La. He fucking loves that song for some reason don't ask me why.

So my one friend (who we'll call Bob for this stories sake) went up and did this simply fucking amazing version of Billy Idols "White Wedding" that included him dancing around and doing some popping and locking, which made all the broads go crazy.

This only served to piss Frankie off, to put it simply Frankie went beserk. Apparently he was the "King" of that Karaoke bar. You know what I'm talking about, the guy that is the big dog in the tiny shit filled pond called the local Karaoke bar. He was used to all the drunk fat skanks at that bar throwing themselves at him, now all the drunk fat skanks were throwing themselves at Bob.

So Frankie challenged Bob to a Karaoke-off, loser can never go into Buffalo Bills Karaoke Bar & Grill ever again. Bob agreed and Frankie said he would go first so he went out to pick his song.

The lights on the stage came on and Frankie proceeded to punish the crowd with an off key rendition of Meatloafs "I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)". For some reason his skanky groupies loved it and went wild, it looked like Bob would never be able to come back to Buffalo Bills Karaoke Bar & Grill ever again.

Bob ran out the door and we weren't sure what was up, Frankie saw this as a sign of Bob giving up and started strutting around the bar screaming "I'M THE KARAOKE KING, KING FRANKIE, LONG LIVE KING FRANKIE!". At that point I was seriously considering taking a tire iron upside his head.

Suddenly the lights went out in the bar I had no idea what was going on. Then a single spotlight shone on stage and Bob was up there. I said "Oh shit" to myself because I saw what he was wearing and I knew what was coming.

Bob was wearing an outfit he reserved for only the most serious of occasions. Let me see if I can accurately describe it. Picture a 37 year old man, unshaven who's about 6'2 and 240 pounds wearing:

-Electric Lime Green Go Go Boots
-A Periwinkle Pattern Man Thong over Pink Bike Shorts
-2 Sizes Two Small KOOL cigarettes Shirt (the super fancy one you get for sending in 4,902 proofs of purchase. Not the cheap 3,000 proofs of purchase one) with the bottom half below the KOOL cut off
-Snorkel Mask
-Golden Cape

Needless to say Bob immediately had everyone's attention. I realized he took this Karaoke challenge VERY seriously, I mean the last time Bob busted out that outfit was Senior Prom After Party (I'm only 25 so Bob's 12 years older than me, but he took my best friends sister to our Senior Prom). I wondered which song out of his awesome arsenal he would pick. Would it be Sir Mix A Lot's "Baby Got Back"? Perhaps Run DMC's "Christmas In Hollis"? The dreaded Cyndi Laupers "She Bop" (except Bob turns it into He Bop)? I guess I would have to wait and see.

The music started blasting and I heard Bob going:

Get the funk up!
BATMAN
Get the funk up!
BATMAN
Get the funk up!
"Go, go, go with a smile!"
BATDANCE
Do it
Keep bustin'

My GOD IN HEAVEN, he had pulled out the heavy artillery. This was the A Bomb of his song arsenal the dreaded Batdance by Prince. Never had an opponent faced Bob doing Batdance and lived, Bob always won. We were all amazed as he flapped his arms around with his cape and ran all over the stage. During the drum break Bob started popping and locking with some serious authority. We're talking pop and lock pop and lock into electric slide into the robot into a windmill into a headspin into a suicide this was turning all the broads there wild. The excitement, the electricity was building in the air, the ladies were panting and the going wild.

Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
I wanna bust that body
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
I wanna bust that body right
"I'd like 2"
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
"But he's out there right now"
I wanna bust that body
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah 2 night

Bob sang this as he laid on the ground violently thrusting his pelvis up, at that all the top heavy broads in the bar started throwing their bras up on stage. I looked back to see Frankie, he face was a mix of rage, shock, and awe.

The roar of applause from the crowd was getting to the point where it was almost deafening I looked over to see one old geezer grabbing his head and blood was spurting out of his left side. Apparently the applause was so loud his hearing aid exploded, it was that crazy.

Finally Bob finished Batdance to a huge ovation from the crowd and at that point something like 87 Top Heavy Broads rushed the stage and carried him into the bathroom. I don't what went on in there all I know is when Bob came out two hours later he looked like he had been through a war zone.

Bob axed where Frankie was so he good rub some salt in the wound. We told him that Frankie left crying and went running out the bar door. At that point I was probably on drink number 23 and I as the most sober person in my group AND the designated driver. Luckily my pad was only about 2 blocks away so we just walked back to the apartment complex.

When we got back we found Frankie sitting on the steps, I don't think I have ever seen a more pathetic sight in my life. Here's Frankie freakin drunk, wearing Bob's snorkel mask, holding a beer, and he's got a water gun full of rum that he's taking shots from. I even took a pic of it, here:



Well Frankie was pissed and said we had ruined his life, this immediately brought a smile to my face. I also actually felt a little bad for the guy so I told him if he wanted to hang out with us for the rest of the night he could. We all went up to my place and really started drinking at that point. After a little while Frankie said he was hungry and axed if he could fire up the grill. I told him sure he could then went to go use the bathroom. Well when I was in the rest room I missed Frankie discovering I was out of charcoal lighter fluid so he went back to his place to get..... a certain something.

So I finish using the bathroom and go back into the living room. From outside I can hear Frankie dragging my grill (which was downstairs) out away from the complex. While playing some Halo 2 we suddenly heard a KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWHUMPPPPPPPPP! this huge crashing sound and when I looked out the window I saw this unholy orange light bathing the walls and then the sound of Frankie screaming.

We all ran outside on the walkay and looked down the stairs. Let me see if I can accurately describe what I saw. My grill is lying on it's side..... ON FIRE burning coals are all over the place including the grass, Frankie is dancing up and down with part of his leg on fire and lying near the grill is a freaking GAS CAN! You know the kind you use to fill your lawnmower or whatever up. It's spouting flames and I am guessing burning gas is what's streamed all over the parking lot.

So like I said Frankie is screaming and his right leg is on fire. We're all yelling for Frankie to stop drop and roll which he starts doing. But because he's so fat he can't really roll all the way around. Bob saw the water gun and decided to help. So he pumped up that Super Soaker about 30 times then hosed Frankies leg down...... the only problem was like I had said earlier Frankie had filled it with rum and was taking shots from it. So the rum just caught on fire which made it even worse for Frankie. Finally someone brought out a hose and put the fire on Frankies leg out.

I look at Frankie, he looks right back at me and goes "Huh, I guess I shouldn't of done that". The fucking idiot tried to use gasoline to start the fire in the grill because I was out of charcoal lighter fluid. Well some of the flaming gasoline sprayed on Frankie's parents car which promptly caught on fire. I could hear the sirens of the fire trucks coming but they still sounded like they were a mile or so away.

By this point like almost all of the apartment complex was outside looking at this debacle. Frankies parents came out side and started screaming at him, his dad even punched him in the balls. Well the fire department and police finally show up. After about 15 minutes they have the fire under control but Frankies parents car was totally gutted by fire.

The police axed what happened and we told them. They then ran Frankies name through the computer and saw he was on probation and under 21 so he violated the law by drinking and this act of stupidity. So they hauled his ass off to jail and I am pretty sure he's going back to county jail for at least a year for violating probation.

Damn......all this plus Webster gets back next week. I can't wait to see how he reacts to all this.

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If There Really Is A Just And Loving God Hurricane Katrina Wouldn't Of Hit New Orleans......It Would Of Hit The MTV Video Music Awards

I am just absolutely amazed at the level of death and destruction caused by Hurricane Katrina. Every day I pray that the victims will be able to put their lives back together and be safe. But another....darker side of me looks at the opportunity wasted by Hurricane Katrina.

One woman they interviewed outside the Superdome said that the Hurricane was "The Hand of God", I thought about that for a moment and decided she was 100% wrong. If this hurricane truly was the act of God it would of hit the MTV Music Video Awards.

The MTV Video Music Awards represent all that I hate in life, and is filled tons of people who just make my head explode when I realize they have more money than I ever will. I mean the only other way I could see all these idiots getting killed would be if they all got on a jumbo jet and it crashed into a volcano, but that would just be unreasonable to expect.

But would it be too much to hope God would direct the Hurricane so it lands directly on top of the awards show? Is that too much to ask God? I mean have it collapse into a mini Hurricane so only that area is hit, nothing else.

I know what some of you are saying "Carnonymous if you hate The MTV Music Video Awards why don't you just turn the channel". It's for the same reason I can't change the channel whenever My Super Sweet 16 is on. I absolutely hate and loathe those people and want to watch it to piss myself off even more.

Want to know my reasons for praying for a Category 102 Hurricane to hit the MTV Awards. Fine here's some of the so called "highlights" of this turd show:

-Mike Jones rapping. Does anyone else think this guy sounds like Cookie Monster just slowed down like 1,000 times kinda like an old walkman where the battery was dying? Absolutely no talent whatsoever.

-Green Day and My Chemical Romance proving that "rock is back". My ass they're pop music now, nothing else. Plus it was kinda cool when Green Day dressed that way 10 years ago, but now a mid 30's guy wearing heavy eye shadow and all the crap they wear just looks sad. These are the type of people you beat up in high school, or laughed at when other people beat them up let's be honest. Now a whole new generation of faggy emo kids are gonna do blogs and have Blvd Of Broken Dreams playing on their website to prove how angst filled they are. Excuse me I have to go vomit now.

-Puff Daddy, excuse me P. Diddy, ooops sorry, Puffy, oh my bad Diddy "conducting" that orchestra. When I first saw the promo for the show where Sean Combs was saying he was changing his name to Diddy because he thought the P was getting between he and his fans I laughed my balls off and thought "damn Combs actually has a pretty good sense of humor". Then I found out it wasn't a joke and 100% serious. I blacked out at that point and when I awoke my walls were covered with blood and a dead hobo laid in my living room. Anyone who used to be a musician, or in band, an orchestra etc probably wanted to vomit as much as I did when they saw him conducting. It looked like he was having a seizure and was spazzing around the place. I wanted to take that goddamned baton and beat him over the head with it.

-The Latino rap fest hosted by Big Pun, or was that Fat Joe? Are they really two different people? I know Big Pun supposedly died, but I swear to god they're the same people. For anyone that thought Puerto Rico and South America was full of broke, dirty, stupid, ethnic stereotypes....well the Latino rap fest pretty much proved them right.

-R "I Like To Piss On 12 Year Old Girls" Kelly lip syncing his song "In The Closet" and acting out all the parts. Seriously.....what the fuck happened to R. Kelly? The guy went from the "I Believe I Can Fly" dude to this pile of shit. They should of played his sex tape in the background on those jumbotrons at least then the audience would of gotten a laugh.

About the only parts of the show I enjoyed was Shakira (for obvious reasons) and seeing Gwen Stefani looking so incredibly pissed off when she lost to Kelly Clarkson. Besides that the show pretty much fucking sucked.

When I heard that a hurricane was forming in that area, and I then heard "Diddy" say the show would go on hurricane or no hurricane I immediately started to pray. This was my prayer:

"Jesus....oh great Jesus I love you so much lord. You are great and powerful Jesus (I figured a little flattery should help) no one is above you. In case you haven't heard Jesus a hurricane is forming near Florida. The MTV Video Music Awards are also in Florida Jesus. I am sure this must be part of your fathers plan, the coincidence is just to great Jesus. But just in case it isn't I wanted to let you know of the tremendous opportunity you have.

Jesus...The Ying Yang Twins....Puff Daddy...Mike Jones...Gwen Stefani...Clay Aiken...My Chemical Romance...it's just too good an opportunity. That would be like having Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot all in one room and you can drop a bomb on them. I mean Jesus these are the same people who thank you all the time and you know they don't' mean it.

I mean Jesus...you really can't be the reason Fat Joe can rap about bitches and ho's can you? The Ying Yang Twins say without you nothing is possible, prove it lord...DESTROY THEM. Oh great Jesus please answer my prayers, all I ask is for a Category 329 Hurricane to land directly on the award show. Nowhere else Jesus, nobody else has to get hurt just these people.

While you're at it Jesus if you could make sure Steve Harvey, Bam Margera, and those Real Estate Midgets are there as well I would appreciate it lord.

Amen"

Well either The Ying Yang Twins are right or Jesus just didn't check his voicemail because well all know The MTV Awards didn't get hit. So now I'm praying that God look after all those hit by Hurricane Katrina, and just slipping in the occasional suggestion about a massive earthquake swallowing up the Laguna Beach cast and crew.

A man can hope can't he?

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