Kim Kardashian

Hey Everybody! I’m on Twitter!

Everybody stop tweeting, status-updating and instagramming right now.

I have an important announcement.

Matt Lauer, Today show anchor and sand-dune skier, is on Twitter.

This is big news…almost as big as that video of a hockey mom scolding a referee. Did you see that? Yeah, I didn’t either, but I understand that it is news because it was on the Today show.

I have avoided Twitter much of my adult life. I’ve missed out when Ashton Kutcher tweeted “Cock rhymes with sock” and when Kim Kardashian tweeted “Butt” and when Justin Bieber tweeted “I will be irrelevant in five years” and when a cat tweeted “j;aft;aug”. And I’ll admit, my life has not been as fulfilling as the guy who lets the world know he just pooped out a ham sandwich without the mayo. #greatpoopstories

Justin Bieber, the performer who tweeted “I will be irrelevant in five years”, helped Matt write his first tweet.

Matt asked for Justin’s help because “I want to find out the power of Bieber,” and then wished it wasn’t live television so he could have said something less creepy.

This is what Matt wanted: “Hanging with Justin at the Today show, Concert coming up. Tweet the name of the first song you’re going to do.” And Justin tweeted “Buy Justin’s new record.”

History has been made.

If Matt gets 750,000 followers by Tuesday, one of his underlings will streak or fight a lion in the Roman Colosseum.

Now I’m all about naked lion-fighting, but I’m more about reading Matt’s mindless ramblings so I have also joined Twitter–something I vowed never to do out of principle that I waste enough of my life as it is.

My first tweet was also about buying Jason Bliber’s new album. No, wait it was this:

I then engaged in my usual daily routine, but then I found I could make it more meaningful by letting the world know about it.

Example:

That felt better. Well, after I puked up the sandwich I felt better. #bestvomitinducers

I then struggled with one of my usual dilemmas that normally would go unnoticed. But now through the miracle of 140 characters, I could let the whole world in my little world, kind of like how the sun enters the moon when it becomes night. #topscientifictheories

World peace realized.

Of course, I have no followers so I did all this decision-making and world-peace-realizing by my lonesome. But maybe you guys can follow me, and if I get 12 followers by Tuesday, some lucky follower will be sent a free cat.

How do you follow me on Twitter?

I have no idea.

I think this is my address?

Help me Matt Lauer.

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We Had a Good Run, America

In a few days, it will be a new year, and some believe this is the year the world ends.

I’m not convinced. I consulted both my box of bones and magic eight ball, and they tell a different story, a story I’m not willing to share so close to Christmas (only 364 shopping days left!).

What is certain, is that America is done. Over. Kaput. Pfffttttttttt……..

Scientific proof:

Even looking at it hurts my ear drums (credit: saddest photographer in the world).

Roads and bridges are falling apart. Our food and products are filled with high fructose corn syrup and plasticized high fructose corn syrup-flavored corn syrup. Our schools are failing, and our children are so morbidly obese, their fingers get mistaken for hot dogs by the pack of wild dogs roaming our foreclosed suburbs. Even truck nutz look more shriveled than ever.

photo credit: world's saddest nutz sackz photographed by the world's second saddest photographer.

We had a good run…..well, except for slavery, Jim Crow, the extermination of the native people, the subjugation of women, stirrup pants, American Idol and celebrities who are famous for sex videos.

That’s it? We’re over just like that? I can change.

I don’t know….I feel like I’ve heard this from you before, America, and then you made me watch Bristol Palin on Dancing with the Stars, Season XXVIICCXXMM.

Give me a second chance.

This is more like your 477th. I’m still pissed about this:

Okay, here are a few things you can do to clean up your act. Consider them your New Year’s resolutions:

1. Fix shit. Remember how Wall Street f***** you over and made billions while everything crumbled? Still happening. Unlike you, they don’t want to change….ever.

2. Refuse to let John Boehner be a congressman until he does something about the orange hue of his skin and his incessant crying. Oh, and his horrible awful vomit-inducing grand-standing and scorched-earth policies. . . I’m amending this to refuse to let nearly every politician be an elected representative, and advocate for the election of Sesame Street muppets in their place.

3. Immediate deportation of anyone who uses the expression “Just sayin'” after they just f****** said something. “I think 9/11 was pretty bad, but tacos are yummy. Just sayin.'”

We’ll start here, and see how the year goes.

Of course this could still happen:

 

I Just Bought Breast Enlargement Drops

I wish people could know more about me.

I wish there was some way, I could show everyone my very essence. I know I can status update and tell people I used a fork correctly for once on Facebook. I know I can tweet and tell people I blew my nose into a colander on Twitter. And while both things are incredibly fascinating in the way it’s fascinating to read someone was delivered a virtual fortune cookie on Facebook and LOL!!!!!, I feel like all of you are missing out because you are not privy to all the minutiae that makes up a Speaker7-like existence. And in a way, I feel like I miss out on many things that I do because I’m too busy watching TV to notice. Like once I ate a carrot dipped in humus and it tasted okay, but I didn’t really think too much about it, and what did the world lose by that? (Answer: everything)

But holy sh*t! I guess there is a way to share my very essence because now I can share what I buy on Amazon.com with my millions of Facebook and Twitter followers. This is like Christmas, Drinking Straw Day and Mormon Pioneer Day all wrapped together in a smushed package taped together by Mormons using drinking straws.

What a wonderful and glorious time we live in! Before, we would just buy a bunch of crap and let it pile up until the rat swarms arrived and ate us whole. But now! Glory be to somebody, everyone can know what crap everyone buys. This was a discovery I recently came upon when I had to buy some crap to show people how much I love them. Thank god, that’s over because now I don’t have to talk to them again for a full year.

So here I lay it all bare for you. This is my holiday gift, and it’s a doozy because by knowing all there is to know about me means you know more about me.

This is me, in a snapshot of Amazon.com purchases. Let there be peace on earth.

It will soon be safe to come within 50 feet of me.

I bought this for my daughter. My daughter's name is ... um...Daughter...yes that's her name.

The smell will never go away. Even if you try soaking yourself in tomato juice, the stench never dissipates.

An absolute necessity.

And the money will come rolling in. Seriously I need it to pay my Amazon bill.

There are no words.

I wear this when looking at my Twilight ball.

Newt Gingrich is single, right?

The last time I knew, he was in Donald Trump's ass.

I like to shave when watching Where in the World is Matt Lauer.

The local unemployment offices need to start looking at this as an option.

RIP Dear Leader

What a glorious time we live in.

And finally my tangible gift to you.

But Speaker7, you’ve been so generous! How can you possibly give us something else?

Just shut up.

blog disclaimer: this post may cause this ailment. Reader beware.

It’s A-Okay!

I learn so much as a human being who has eyes and ears and occasional numbness in my pinky toe. But I had no idea how much I repressed what I said until I saw this on Facebook:

I wept silently into my Old Glory hotpants for about an hour. But after my crying jag, I felt liberated. Clearly Christmas is under attack. Why else would Christmas decorations go up Oct. 25 when they should be up after July 4th? The intention is to rip this holy commercial holiday right out of baby Jesus’ tiny baby hands and beat the crap out of it with baseball bats emblazoned with the slogan: “Happy Holidays from Al Qaeda!”

But guys.. did you know it’s okay to say “Merry Christmas” and “God Bless America” without being struck down by the iron fist of straw men?  I feel like a giant weight made out of air has been lifted off my shoulders.

However this got me thinking: what else is it “okay to say” that for some reason or other I wasn’t saying because it was not beautifully set against a backdrop of a waving flag?

Get ready for some freedomy freedom being freedomed your way:

And lastly my favorite:

Ice Cream Cake for Everyone!

No, wait. . . I take that back. I really want the entire ice cream cake. It’s one of the few pleasures on my birthday. I know we live in Obama’s socialist America now, but I am the 99 percent when it comes to that cake and I will occupy it with my mouth. I will form the Cake Party if I have to, and rewrite history to fit with my worldview such as Nov. 15 being declared Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day by Thomas Jefferson in the Emancipation Magna Carta Independence Day SUV Sale of 1912. It’s in the Constitution. Look it up.

So no cake, okay? Seriously, how are you suppose to eat it? Do I smear some on my laptop screen and somehow through the miracle of Internet pipes and tubes, it will drip onto your computer screen like the hairy girl from The Ring?

Seven days....of delicious ice cream cake! Enjoy!

I know Cornell is working on some invention where you can print food by filling print cartridges with ketchup or something so it’s entirely possible in the future, I can send you a word document of my ice cream cake and you can print out a piece covered in ketchup (SCIENCE!!), but for now I’m just going to eat it. I’m going to scrape off the inedible blue plutonium-based frosting that tastes like you would think blue plutonium-based frosting would taste and shovel in cake until I experience an ice cream cake headache befitting of my years on this planet.

I am also getting my hair cut.

Try not to choke on your jealousy as you wish you could partake in my awesome birthday extravaganza. This one is up there with the one held at Roy Rogers restaurant (that was last year) and my 21st when I drank a mudslide at Applebee’s. I was my generation’s Snooki. 

I do have a few birthday wishes. I know they became meaningless if said out loud so if you are a read-aloud reader, read this next part in your head.

Here are my wishes for my 3?th birthday:

  • ice cream cake
  • a hairstyle that will require minimal to no work on my part to maintain
  • all my peeps on my blogroll (cuz that’s how I roll, yo) get recognition for being the truly talented writers they are…and compensated accordingly
  • peace on earth
  • the extinction of the Kim Kardashian 

May you all have a happy Speaker7 Ice Cream Cake Day!

Please welcome the newsfeed baby!

Not only do I get to sift through friends’ platitudes– “Don’t Look Back. You’re Not Going That Way”–on my Facebook newsfeed, but now I can see what news articles they read on other websites.

This is great. I really wanted to know that people I know on the most superficial of levels are reading articles like “Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar are expecting their 20th child” and “SeaWorld Orlando announces new attraction” (Apparently Shamu and Jim Bob Duggar are expecting their 20th hybrid whale-baby)

Facebook has hooked up with Yahoo! and created a newsfeed baby that is a half-brother to the baby created by Yahoo! and Jim Bob Duggar.

I don’t read Yahoo! News because the name itself invalidates everything placed on that page, but it’s basically the sign of the times to come. At some point, Facebook will intertwine directly with our brains and be able to post status updates  like:

I really don’t want random people…excuse me, my besties knowing what I search for and read on the Internet. I look up some weird sh*t on the Internet. For research, thank you very much Mr. FBI agent or Mrs. FBI Agent because I’m not sexist or Ms. FBI agent because you don’t have to be married. I have looked up adult baby syndrome several times. I also searched for information on Richard Simmons and his pom-pom tank top, which incidentally led to many sites on adult baby syndrome. I use search engines when I don’t know how to spell something like gonorrhea or Kim Kardashian. All for this blog.

All for you, readers.

Now the U.S. Supreme Court is hearing a case on whether it’s a-okay for the coppers to track your every move (unbeknownst to you, of course) through GPS. I read about this on Goofball! News. That GPS thing-a-mabob is not good. It touches on the Orvillian (coined for Orville Redenbacher who experimented with hybrid popcorn kernels). I really don’t want the local police to know that I stop at the local Rite-Aid several times to pick up adult diapers for the diaper parties I attend. For research. 

We are one step away from looking as bad as Bruce Willis did wearing that hair piece in Surrogates, a movie I’ve never seen due to spending time in active pursuits like searching adult baby syndrome on the Internet.

How do I know?

I read about it on Facebook.

FAQs

This post is for Angie.

We share a love of Shaun Cassidy and Ralph Macchio and a hatred of candy corn and elephant peanuts. While we have never met, I believe we are kindred spirits. If you have not read any of her writings, you must go to her site now.  I’ll wait.

You’re back? Her writing is extremely funny, right? I probably should have had you click after you read my post….

Anyhoboken, it saddened me that my post about fame-demon Kim Kardashian’s marriage divorce left Angie with many questions. If you didn’t click on the link, I will give you a summary of my post. I wrote about how I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch.

I was going to write today’s post on my solution to the Palestinian/Israeli conflict, but I felt this was much more pressing. It’s probably for the best because my husband just informed me that they are not in fact rock bands. (my solution had something to do with a rock off, which is a twist on the dance off: see Michael Jackson’s Beat It. It might possibly still apply)

I will answer the most important question first:

The jelly I put on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich was Welch’s grape jelly. I use that squeezable bottle kind. It’s really quite handy.

I will tackle the second most important question now: What does Matt Lauer think about this? This question has the presupposition that Matt Lauer thinks. For the sake of answering this question speedily, I will overlook that and assume that he does. I didn’t know what Matt Lauer “thought” when I wrote yesterday’s post, but I do now.

Well sorta…

“This has a lot of people shaking their heads,” said Matt Lauer before segueing into a docudrama about Kim’s love affair with butter.

An E! Keebler elf said this: “They’re in the public eye, lots of attention and lots of speculation, and frankly lots of pressure…”

Two of my eyelashes start to rub against each other approximating a tiny violin. It plays Big Bottom by Spinal Tap, which was the song playing when Kim walked down the aisle.

“And that couldn’t have helped. Up next Kim and Khloe Kare Kfor Kittens!”

Tomorrow, Matt Lauer will have the exclusive interview with Kim’s mom Kris Jenner and Bruce Jenner’s original face, which she keeps in velvet-lined box. Perhaps I will be able to better answer that question then or maybe I will luck out and the world will end tonight.

Angie wanted to know why Kim was getting a divorce after only 72 days of marriage. I shot over to the TMZ website, and I believe my soul was just sucked out through my eyeballs.

Kim blogged about this. She said she got caught up in the hoopla of trying to stay relevant when she had nothing to offer the world. That might not be an accurate reading of what Kim wrote, but I lost my soul so what can you expect?

You can expect that I will have my own reality television show in about two weeks.

Kim Kardashian to divorce after only 72 days of marriage

I ate a sandwich today. It was peanut butter and jelly. It was okay, not great. I think it might have had too much jelly. The point is I wish I had some leftover lasagna from the previous night’s dinner, but alas that was not meant to be.

I think I might even have to eat another peanut butter and jelly sandwich tomorrow and I just went grocery shopping!! Why the heck didn’t I pick up something good for my midday meal?

This may seem like a boring post, mainly because it is. But something even less interesting happened today so it felt appropriate:

A sandwich filed for divorce from a block of wood

Forever Immobilized in Fleece

Some people want to be forever remembered or forever relevant.

I want to be forever lazy, and lucky me, there exists an outfit to help me reach my goal.

It is called Forever Lazy®. I had not known of its existence until this morning when I was watching TV. Before I had been too lazy to even turn the television on..I had to focus all my energy on lifting and lowering the spoon into a trough of ice cream.

This will be you. This will be all of us:

 

After the 20 minutes it took for the message to meander lazily to my brain, I learned that I could encase my entire body in breathable fleece. Wrestling with blankets to find the remote or cover all parts of my body would be a thing of the past, and I could focus my attention on zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Sorry I fell asleep for a second and my face landed on the “z” button.

I learned that the colors are “stylish” like gray and black. I learned that it came in all sizes from large to blue whale. I learned that I could keep my hands free for such activities as raiding the refrigerator of all Crisco and Heinz-balsamic-vinegar-ketchup products, looking up porn on the Internet and eating a Crisco-Heinz-balsamic-vinegar-ketchup sundae while watching downloaded porn.

I feel that this invention is up there with the printing press, lightbulb and Paris Hilton in terms of how it will revolutionize life as we know it. We are now this close (put your thumb and index finger about a tenth of an inch away. You can do this because your Forever Lazy® keeps your hands free. If you are too lazy to hold up your hand, try to get someone else to do it for you like maybe a parakeet or a baby) to being the humans in Wall-E. I tell you the only thing that gets me moving now is when I’m wrestling with a blanket over who wore an outfit better in the latest edition of US Weekly.

Once you move the refrigerator into the living room, there will never be another reason to get up off the couch ever.

Whoa, wait a sec there Speaker7. What about if I have to go number 1 or number 2 or really in my case number 8 because I just ate a case of Funyuns doused in Heinz balsamic vinegar ketchup?

Didn’t you watch the commercial?

Nah, I was too lazy to even read your blog. I’m having my trained baby parakeet type this for me.

Forever Lazy® has zippered hatches located in the front and back waste-voiding regions. Just unzip the hatch, slip an empty Funyun bag under the appropriate orifice and evacuate waste freely into it.

Order now and you can also get fleece footies, a neck pillow and bedsores!

I Hate Charlie Brady King

This post will be a little disappointing. Readers I know you tune into this blog (since it is a radio show) and expect to be blown away by scholarly insight like Dr. Phil is a turd and the decline of America began when someone asked “Where’s the beef?” and someone else answered “I don’t know”…but here’s the thing, some person with the face of an ass (aka assface) decided to jackhammer my street at 4:30 a.m.

This is not a pleasant sound to be gently lulled into a conscious state. It can lead to outbursts of “What the f—-!!” and the ripping aside of drapes in order to burn the offender alive with death laser beams shooting from the eyeballs. It can lead to this:

I am a morning person, but 4:30 is still the middle of the night. I occasionally pulled all-nighters in college or at middle school slumber parties to avoid having my hand placed in a warm cup of water (my college roommates were aholes). I found that around 4 a.m., reality became a little fuzzy, a little dreamlike and things that happened during that time could not be recalled. Of course, it’s possible I fell asleep, but my point is 4:30 is not a proper time for a jackoff jerkwad to jackhammer into asphalt.

So I’m not bringing my A game to this post. It’s more like my Q game. I feel like I’m a contestant on Top Chef: Just Desserts and I’ve been asked to make a dessert out of raviolis and bottle of Brass Monkey, which is what the contestants were just asked to do on the rerun I’m watching. See I can’t even come up with my own analogies. Oh, the humanity.

Sarah Palin is not running for president. I learned this from the TV. They showed footage of her speaking at a Tea Party rally. Someone held a sign that said “I Like the Smell of the Tea Party in the Morning.” I would like to put that on a T-shirt and then take that T-shirt and jakehammer it on top of a sewer line. And then I would make another T-shirt that says “I Like the Smell of a Sewage-Soaked Jackhammered T-Shirt Over the Smell of the Tea Party in the Morning.”

She is putting her family first and working to elect those who will stop the “fundamental transformation” of our nation. That “fundamental transformation” is in “quotes” because it is a “beautiful” turn-of-phrase uttered by Clown Baby…I mean, “Glenn Beck,” who is a giant baby with the comic timing of a tramp.

Palin’s statement continues, and it’s one of the few times I would gladly accept a jackhammer to the head over listening to any more, but the gist is she’s going to work to bring this country back, and I never know what this means. Back to what? The time of Jim Crow? The time when women pretty much had three career paths open to them: teacher, nurse, housewife? The time of child labor and poor houses? The time before Kim Kardashian’s Fairytale Wedding? The time before Charles Brady King invented the jackhammer?

…I think she may be onto something.