media

Fifty Shades of Trailer Trash

Hold onto your butt plugs, everybody!!

Or insert them. Should we insert them? I think so. I think that’s appropriate.

Tomorrow is the day we get to see the downfall of inspiration and creativity  Fifty Shades of Grey movie trailer!!

This is apparently a big deal, so much so that Beyonce released a trailer for the trailer a few days ago.

My husband showed it to me yesterday because he clearly hates me.

I think I might be suffering from PTSD from my time reading and recrapping the trilogy. That could explain why I tried to remove my eyeballs with a melon baller upon viewing the teaser trailer and I don’t even own a melon baller. I was really using a shoehorn.

The teaser trailer is. . . what is the word I’m looking for. . . oh yes, a giant stinking turdpile (I realize that is more than one word).

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s clear the movie will be as if Show Girls and Battlefield Earth mated and had a love child that was raised by one of those stupid water-fearing aliens from Signs and then went on to be a pink lady in Grease 2. What I’m attempting to say is that this movie will suck with the force of a 1,000 master series intake anal suction cups.

Don’t just take my word for it. I showed the teaser trailer to my two leads.

watchtrailerMaybe.

The trailer is premiering on the Today show and the anchors will be dressing up as characters. Matt Lauer will portray a butt plug, which means he will basically be himself. They then will continue on with the other real news of the day, mainly on expose on which Buzzfeed quiz are you most like.

News.

Hugo insisted we make our own trailer after I jokingly said I could make a better one if I inserted an iTouch up my bunghole.

Those things are painful.

 

Breaking Sex News

I really have to thank Alice for the generation of this post, the 20th in this santorum festival known as NaBloWriMo.

If you are a regular reader, you know I cobbled together a post on unfinished posts that languish in my WordPress draft folder because the ideas…yup, the ideas are dead. I didn’t think there was more to Breaking Sex News than the weird Breaking Sex News banner on The Huffington Post on Swedes yanking it in public.  I even tried to find more, but could only find this:

sexpong

That is fucking incredible, but where is the breaking sex news!?! Then Alice reminded me of the go-to source for all breaking sex news–Cosmopolitan magazine.

For instance, did you know, gentle reader, that there is such a thing as “celebrity side butt”?

How marvelous! And newsy.

So what is Celebrity Side Butt? the masses desperately want to know.

It is incredibly scientific. “Side Butt” occurs when a celebrity is sans underwear and wears a dress that proves that theory. For example,  a² – b² = partial ass.

Cosmo includes a photoessay of our most famous examples of that theorem in action.

sidebuttBut what if I’m not a Celebrity Side Butt, but am looking for ways to sexify my relationship? is likely what you’re thinking right now.

Well, I have the hot scoop–there are 75 crazy-hot sex moves that can sexify pretty much anything from the secret Santa office party to your Aunt Bertha’s wake.

You may be under the assumption that sex is where that thing goes into that slot and then retreats and then goes back and then there’s a charley horse and then there’s the looking at the clock because Grey’s Anatomy is going to be on any second and then there’s the quick prayer to god about somebody finishing and then someone groans and now you can finally have some peace and watch TV.

Well there’s more, gentle reader, 75 more things to be exact.

For instance, you can “straddle your guy, then lean forward and rest your upper body on his torso. Bring one leg out to the side, and bend it so that the inside of your leg is against the bed. Then straighten the other leg and slide it between his legs” and if you can explain to me how this exactly works because of my spatial difficulties and inability to understand poor writing, I will be grateful…and hot.

You could also: “try side-saddle position for a more unique and snug fit. Make a bridge with your arms behind you on one side of him and your legs in front of you on the other.” I’m thinking the author of this just began consulting her “Odyssey of the Mind” handout from 6th grade. Herman Melville’s Moby Dick is a literary masterpiece. Create Ishmael’s boat only using the parts from a vacuum cleaner. Now make it sexy.

Or you could: “build momentum by keying in to an ocean legend that the seventh in a series of sea waves is the strongest” because clearly the author has started to lose her erection at the 25th crazy-hot sex move and has no clue what the fuck to write. Why not add something like “Goldilocks the moment by making his dick too hot, then too cold and then just right. First pour molten steel on his member, followed by Coleman’s Chiller and then warm it up with a hair dryer.”

Or if you’re tired just “trade butt-cheek massages” and extra bonus if it is a celebrity side butt.

News.

Breaking sex news for that matter.

For fuck’s sake, are there seriously 10 days left? Fuck. Anyway, Speaker7 is writing every day this month as a member of the Nano Poblano Team. 

Fifty Shades of Movie Magic

I was delighted when I saw the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly:

ewcoverFinally, the first of many issues heralding the arrival of this movie. Being a big fan of the books, I tore through the magazine pages, reading voraciously and savoring every morsel I could.

I understand it will be difficult to condense E.L. James 600-paged behemoth down to a two-hour film. Will they cut out one of the 1,200 email exchanges? Or one of the 4,507 times Christian orders Ana to eat? Or one of the 35,678 times Christian remarks on Ana’s wetness.

God, I hope not.

In the magazine, the stars were interviewed about their thoughts on the film.

fiftyshadesactorsFor the uninitiated, Fifty Shades of Grey is a steamy trilogy about a virginal sockpuppet who falls in love with a controlling oil-retention enema. They murmur and stick things in holes. It’s awesome or–to use Virginia of Lame Adventures, new word for “awesome”– semi-flaccid.

Semi-flaccidly enough, my copy of Entertainment Weekly happened to include a few pages of the script. I first inserted a butt plug into my ear canal to further cement the brain damage I underwent from reading the books and began to read.

Oh my, gentle reader, oh my.

Prepare to be shaded by some grey, whatever the fuck that means.

First Scene:

firstscene

firstscene2

Ana and Christian’s first meeting

firstmeeting

firstmeeting2

Ana and Christian’s Interaction at Claytons Hardware

claytons1

clayton2

I give this film two thumbs up the butt!

Speaker7’s inner goddess is responsible for this post even though her inner goddess is not a member of the Nano Poblano Team. 

Love is Dead

I don’t know if you heard, but child bride Courtney Stodden and Doug Hutchinson broke up.

djfkajgkalfjda;lfjas;fjas;fjds;afj

See? I can’t even write I’m so upset. . . and that’s not because I’m having difficulty coming up with things to write about.

When that 50+ actor, best known for playing a liver-eating serial killer on the X-Files, married that 16-year-old, best known for humping Santa Claus and pumpkins, it seemed they would be the “celebrity” couple who would defy the odds and make it.

Alas, Courtney called it quits when her bizarre behavior in public with Doug did not warrant enough attention to earn her a reality show because she wanted to explore her independence.

Get ready for a bizarro inappropriate flag photoshoot.

Wait, that already happened.

independentcourtneyIf you don’t mind, I’d like to take a walk down memory lane and remember the golden times of Dourntey Stutchinden:

lasvegaswedding

Their beautiful Las Vegas Wedding

The time they humped in a pumpkin patch.

The time they humped in a pumpkin patch.

The time they ruined Christmas.

The time they ruined Christmas.

The time they ruined Halloween.

The time they ruined Halloween.

The time they ruined the ocean.

The time they ruined the ocean.

The time they ruined eating.

The time they ruined eating.

Love is dead, people.

Speaker7 was spreadeagled on a car typing this with her boobs. It was very “sexy” which is a word that no longer has any meaning thanks to Dourtney Stutchinden.

Yahoo! Shit

Because I am a lady living a lady’s lifestyle with my lady brain, I read Yahoo! Shine religiously.*

For the uninitiated, Yahoo Shine is an especially shiny part of Yahoo that shines the light on the stuff that womenfolk care about like fat cells and man-trapping.

Before I began reading, I thought the key to trapping a man was stuffing him in the folds of my fat, but Yahoo! Shine pointed me in the right direction.

mantrap

In the Yahoo! Shine world, life is like an episode of According to Jim combined with a Cathy comic strip. It’s that good.**

For instance did you know that there are seven questions every guy wishes you’d ask him? Seriously. Every fucking guy in the whole world, and that includes the Ayatollah Khomeini, Ryan Seacrest and Hitler’s corpse. So do the guys a favor, ladies, and ask them these questions today.

1. Question 1

The first one has to do with our weight because that is a complex that is ingrained in   every gal’s DNA. I distinctly remember at three months telling my mom to cool it on the formula because I was getting a serious case of thunder thighs.

babyfat

Now gals instead of asking “Societal expectations of women’s bodies were created by a fucking crazy person so therefore I’m asking this question because this has been beaten into my head with a claw hammer, and that’s why I’m planking by the dinner table rather than eating so to make a long story short….do I look fat?” you should ask “Sweetie, what do I look best in?” This is obviously your guy’s decision because you need to concentrate on reducing your vaginal fat.

2. Oh my god fellas, don’t them ladies like to yammer after you’ve done stuck your Excalibur in them? Just talk talk talk talk talk…wouldn’t it be great if they would just act like the objects they are and shut the fuck up? So basically the question EVERY guy, including Papa Smurf, wants to hear is “Do you mind if we just lie here and not talk?”

sexytimes

3. Every guy loves sports. Every goddamn one. If your guy doesn’t than he must immediately turn in his guy card and become a woman or a shrub, it’s his pick because the third question every guy–and I mean every guy even Bashar al-Assad–wants to hear is “I have some tickets to some sporting event where guys bash into one another so hard they get concussions that later lead to lasting brain damage, do you want to go?”

sportsman

4. Ladies, for god’s sakes, I hope you are not even thinking about expressing your interests because that is about as enticing as genital freezer burn. The menfolk and I mean every manfolk including the Dalai Lama wants you to ask “Oooh I’m into only your shit and because you’re a guy it’s either a movie with explosions or a movie with boobs or a movie with exploding boobs so do you want to see that Katy Perry documentary?”

dalailama

7. I think we’re at question 7 because I am female after all and do not know math. So this one has all to do with the one with the vagina leaving with all the rugrats that came out of said vagina and the man free to do his man things in his man cave like measure his penis and discover fire. The question is something like “Hey can I pack up the kids and leave and you can reenact some Fatal Attraction fantasy only without the boiled rabbit?”

fatalattraction

Knowledge!

*This is only true when I’m participating in NaBloWriMo and run out of things to write about after day 2.

**At this point, after writing for seven consecutive days in a row, I no longer know what words mean. “Good” means “shit sandwich”, right?

Even though she knows this is a turn-off, Speaker7 wants to know if she looks fat while writing this post. Speaker7 is writing daily during this month as part of the Nano Poblano team.

The News That Nearly Stopped the Internet

Stop the muther-fucking Internet, people! I’ve got a BIG announcement…

Wait, how do you stop this thing? Is there a button somewhere…no that’s just brightens the screen…maybe this one? ª No, it just makes a tiny floating “a”….okay, I don’t know how to do it. The fact that I can’t stop the Internet in no way diminishes this AMAZING breaking news:

Noted Elvis Presley impersonator and part-time manwhore Rob Schneider has changed his political affiliation from Democrat to Republican.

I’m just going to give you a moment to let that sink in…and to google who Rob Schneider is.

Big news, amirite?

It’s almost as big as that time Fred Sampson said he wasn’t going to shovel the curbcut in front of his house if the plows were just going to pile big mounds of snow there.

It’s nearly as monumental as that time Ginny Smith was asked “How was your weekend?” by Amy Nedrow and answered “Kind of sucky” rather than the requisite “Fine, how was yours?

And it’s practically on par with that time that bear shit in the woods that one day.

Schneider blames the California Democrats for killing the creative spirit that could have made Deuce Bigalow: Beating a Dead Horse With Another Dead Horse a reality.

robsreasonsThe Democratic Party “no longer serves the people of this great state,” opines Schneider. “When the sitcom Rob was canceled, it was like a seagull was suffocated by the great big donkey that rules with its iron hoof.”

He also had to move his “vitamin company” out of the state due to state regulations that demand vitamins actually contain more than sawdust and lost hope.

That logic is as solid as the plot of Hot Chick. 

Instead, Schneider is throwing his slight build behind California Assemblyman Tim Donnelly’s bid for governor. Donnelly is a leader of the California Minutemen, and once attempted to erect a fence on the California-Mexican border.

robbigthoughts

A Farewell to Penis

I’ve been having difficulty writing lately, and now I’ve finally figured out why:

I possess a vagina.

It gets in the way of everything. When I’m attempting to squeeze a big thought out of my tiny woman brain, my vagina interrupts the process with demands for chocolate. When I attempt to hold a pen using my weakly woman arms, my vagina shrieks about being too fat. When I try to write a post on Speaker7, my vagina threatens to set itself on fire.

It’s no wonder the ladies get paid less, amirte fellas. Up top.

David Gilmour gets it. He sees no value in teaching the drivel excreted by ladybits in his Big Dick Writers 101 seminar.

“Women be stupid,” Gilmour laments.

That’s a slight paraphrase. What he actually said was much worse:

“I say I don’t love women writers enough to teach them, if you want women writers go down the hall. What I teach is guys. Serious heterosexual guys. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Chekhov, Tolstoy. Real guy-guys. Henry Miller. Philip Roth,” Gilmour huffs whilst sticking his enormous plumbing into the biggest glory hole one has ever seen.

doucheI should probably amend the paraphrase to add women and gays be stupid, but Gilmour is likely the type of specimen to think the terms interchangable.

Gilmour is able to stop masturbating over his copy of Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer to give props to lady mouthpiece Virginia Woolf, stating “she made a mean bundt cake.” (slight paraphrasing)

O Captain! My Captain! …Shit! I’m trying to stand on a desk to salute this brilliant professor, but I’ve got my period and whole slew of laundry that needs a-washing.

By the way, what the blazing fuck is a woman writer anyway?

I’m answering my own question:

One who writes with her vagina.

This profile in misogyny made me harken back to my days of playing drums in a rock band that no one–apart from my parents and that guy at the bar–ever heard. I can’t tell you how many times I heard:

You’re one of the best female drummers.

I don’t know. . . is that a thing? Did male drummers have some sort of advantage by being able to use their penis to bang on the floor tom?

All great questions, but too taxing for my smaller, less interesting brain.

My vagina’s tired of writing anyways and is angrily demanding chocolate.

Tips for a Successful Marriage

Today is my wedding anniversary.

Many people ask me, “Speaker7, why is your marriage so successful?”

My marriage has truly been a partnership as we have raised our two boys with great hope and optimism that they would one day become fine young men. Mr. Speaker7 has often said that God put him on this earth to be a wife and a mother. Our family, of which Mr. Speaker7 is the heart, is testimony that he has embraced that calling. Over the last 28 years, we have loved, cried, laughed, despaired and celebrated. I reveled in featuring my giant pumpkin head, grating Southern accent, and condescending shitball personality on Oprah while making loads of dough exploiting other people’s mental illness.

….Wait a second….Oopsies! I just plagiarized the majority of that last paragraph from Dr. Phil McGraw’s book Family First. My bad, everyone.

The truth is no one has ever asked me about my succesful marriage and Dr. Phil is a colossal fuckstick.

dr.doucheMy marriage is successful because I have no trouble admitting when I’m wrong.

The other day, I ate what I thought was a plain roasted edamame. Instead it turned out to be coated in wasabi, a substance slightly hotter than the surface of the sun.

It immediately felt like I flicked a bic lighter inside one of my nostrils. I dipped my tongue in cleaning fluid to dull the burning hemorrhoid sensation on my tongue.

I knew I had fucked up.

If you would like to know some other tips to a successful marriage, they are these:

  • drink plenty of cranberry juice
  • drink plenty of water
  • avoid consuming irritants like caffeine except for the six to eight cups one needs to wake up in the morning
  • wipe from front to back

Interestingly this will also keep you from getting a urinary tract infection.

The Cyrus-versy™

I am commenting on the Miley Cyrus controversy because I’m very concerned.

About my page views.

They’re low.

By now, you are aware that Miley Cyrus twerked and gene-simmonsed her way through a performance of her hit song “Mediocre Pop Song.”

If you’re not aware, it looked like this:

mileytongue

Like many, I was shocked. Shocked that the Video Music Awards was actually still a thing and that humans actually watched.

And then I saw that the performance became a news story and real-live journalists were talking about it. Even that Mika Brzezezzezzzzzzzzzzazzzzzzskii who famously tried to burn a story about Paris Hilton’s release from jail because she deemed it “trivial.”

mikatweetParent bloggers or Ploggers™ were up in arms over the performance and wondered if their children would view their Hannah Montana vibrating toothbrushes in a different way.  And zombies…well the zombies just said “BRAAIINNSSSS.”

Why has this performance gained so much traction? When you break it down, it really is the story of a young commodity trying to break out of her target market into a new synergized market share. A story as old as time.

And yet here I was doing this in Adobe Illustrator:

fartSee, it looks like Miley is on the receiving end of a fart in the face.

What did it all mean?

Later in the performance, Alan Thicke’s semen creation came out to ruin Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Get It Up” whilst Miley poked at his privates with a giant foam finger. If I didn’t know better, I would have pegged the performance a brilliant parody of what passes for “sexXy” in American society. In case you didn’t know, this is sexXy:

hamburgerhelperI don’t know how this any less foolish than Madonna kissing a female Gremlin birthed out of Lady Gaga’s robotic birth canal or Katy Perry dressed as a skunk spraying whipped cream from her anal cavity.

As an aside, please make both happen for next year’s VMAs.

But I think we’ve lost sight of the real issue and that is, both songs really sucked. I mean, what the fuck, America. Get better musical taste and this would not happen. So I blame you.

All of you. Even Donald Trump.

donald

Donald Trump Explains it All

Donald Trump is the news again because. . . um . . . there have been no shark attacks? I’m not sure why.

ABC scored the interview after a bull shark from Discovery Channel’s Shark Week had to cancel.

Trump is our generation’s P.T. Barnum, if P.T. Barnum was a raging hemorrhoid covered in silly string.

Here’s what happened: A moistened hole opened in that giant orange face and spewed out something. What he said was a mystery because I had the interview on mute. I just got over a debilitating case of diarrhea; I didn’t need a relapse.

I can only imagine the important news Trump imparted:

donald1

arabicdonald

donaldnetworth

donaldbreath

ivanaanddonald

donaldbankrupt

donaldgollum

donaldhair

And perhaps the biggest surprise of all:

braindeaddonald