Really?! Really?! America – 2012! by Natalie Wall

The Creators of “Honey Boo Boo”- What the fucking fuck, TLC?!?! WHAT THE FUCKING, FUCK?! You do realize you are “The Learning Channel” right?

My Facebook Newsfeed – ick.

Email’s from Papa John’s – Stop it Papa John’s. Just stop it! Stop whispering those sweet nothings into my ear… your charm and extensive selection of hearty sausages has no effect on me anymore!

Vince Vaughn - I… I… I don’t like you.

2012 Political Election Coverage -  I…I…I didn’t like you.

This Girl -  She’s talking to her parole officer FYI….oh, and she has a FUCKING CHILD!

Whoever was the douche that fired Dan Harmon (Creator of “Community”) - Seriously?! Community is fucking amazing but you think the best thing to do is fire it’s fucking creator and bring it back mid-season on a Friday night slot?! It’s like you don’t want to make money, NBC…like, ever.

Adam Levin’s tattoos - ick.

People that have expendable incomes – shut up.

Inventors of boxed wine – Hah. I’m just shitting you. Y’all the best!

 

Slutty but Funny

Natalie Wall likes to think she is a female comedian but the reality is she’s a NYC girl trying to make it big. If she’s not writing in her blog, Awkward Sex and the City, she’s spraying vanilla icing on a mini donut or thinking of ways to kill Dora from Dora the Explorer. Help her, humor her and fall in love with the pale pasty princess straight out of Compton (not really).

 

Stupidest Assholes of 2012, The List – by Elton Edgar

mayan

Katt Williams, goes drugged up nuts at concerts and then slaps a K-Mart employee while running from the police.

Rupert Murdoch, phone tapping extraordinaire takes down a media institution with stupidity.

Jerry Sandusky, the Penn State asst. coach for molesting kids via a childrens charity.

Mel Gibson, loses his shit and screams at a writer, in front of a 15 year old kid.

Dish Network, for taking out its legal tantrums out on its own customers by cutting AMC from it’s line up.

2012 Olympic Judges, for robbing South Korean female fencer Shin Lam of a chance at a gold medal, because they don’t understand that clocks break.

The Mayans, ending their calendar in a year that has — not only the internet and television — but, is populated by psychics, psuedo-experts and mid-western apocalypse wackos, all of whom can type and make videos.

Disney, after they stripped a cartoon princess of her Latin heritage.

Todd Akin, kills the Republican party and gives the world one of its most absurd pop culture phrases to date with his “legitimate rape” comment.

Mitt Romney insults 47% of the American public…and still thought he’d win the election.

Chik-Fil-A, gives homophobes an official chicken sponsor.

Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, for making a film so bad it drove Muslims to murder.

Kenneth Krause, for fat-shaming a newscaster via email, then saying he didn’t when she calls him out on t.v.

 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

 

Practical Advice…Learned In A Bathroom: Bathroom Bomber

Being your average, ordinary everyday bad ass, I have used many a bathroom in my time. Be it for the intricacies of wash closet architecture or for secluded enclaves to woo buck toothed hookers, I’ve enjoyed them all, in one way or another. Though, mostly for pissing, shitting …and prostitutes.

Be that as it may, situations occur that fall outside of the happiest of pissing, shit and sex working awesomeness. There are times of heroism and valor that scare the shit out of you and bring out the testosterone fueled Hercules that lies buried, dormant beneath the cool exterior of one’s handsome good looks. By that stuff…I mean…me and by times I mean, the day I pissed my way onto the super hero, anti-terrorism world stage!

It was during a banquet I was attending at the Swedish consulate in Washington D.C. I was invited to the banquet as a “thank you” for securing the latest “50 Shades of Grey “installment, six months before it’s release (don’t ask). I would have graciously declined, but, who am I to turn down free expensive booze and food in weird sauces?

The night was soaked in mixed drinks, nondescript old guys, ugly rich women and expensive pretty ones. I, of course, was fending them off the best I could. Having my fair share of champagne, I adjourned to the bathroom to “donate my liquid assets” (that’s code for “taking a whiz”).

I had finished and was washing my hands when, a man joined me at the sink. A nice suit, clean hair cut and a striking jaw line, he looked to be a late twenties to mid-thirties business type. I could have mistaken him for a model of some sort, but, you know…I wouldn’t know, ‘m not gay and stuff. I’m woman humping straight.

So, the hot guy washed his hands beside me. Then, addressing me in a confident, deep, manly super model tone he said, “Sorry about the funk in here, my man. I had to drop a bomb, know what I mean?”. “Uh, wha-what, I’m sorry, I was mesmerized by your exquisite jaw line and what looks to be an finely tailored suit stretched over your Adonis like biceps, could you repeat that?”, I heterosexually responded.

“Uh…I’m sorry about the bomb I left in the toilet.”, he said with a hint of embarrassment.

I blankly stared into his dazzling blue eyes for a moment, the alcohol dulling my usually lightning fast response time. “You left a bomb in the toilet?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, the smell–”

Using my cheetah like reflexes, I punched him in the face.

“OW! What the hell? You punched me?!”

I had little time to waste. I wrestled him to the floor. Spotting the bathroom attendant who, until now, was transparent…apparently. I yelled to him, “Get the police or Homeland Security guy! I’ll keep this terrorist distracted and disarm the bomb!”

“Terrorist?! Who’s a terrorist?” interjected the still conscious terrorist. “Shut your infidel hating face!”, I shouted and struck his nose repeatedly. “Sir!”, the attendant interjected, “Sir! Stop!”. With the would be bomber pinned, I turned to him, “Sir, that’s a senator from Maine!”.

I learned two things that night. One, apologizing profusely after beating a senator will never get you out of a tasing and two, senators do accept apologies, but, only after getting a turn at tasing you.

My advice: Always be sure the person you’re accusing of terrorism isn’t an elected official with the shits. You’ll likely end up with electrical burns on your nipples if you don’t.

 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

 

Museum of Morgan – Crack Rock

Navigating The Music Video Landscape
Video: “Crack Rock”
Artist: The Dogs
Year: 1990

Remember music videos? A now long lost art form thanks to MTV2 programming such as “Jersey Shore,” “16 & Pregnant” and “Teen Mom.” Now – we slink away into the internet searching for our fix. On YouTube lies all of the nostalgia that comes with lip syncing and staring directly into the camera (or away for dramatic effect.) I just so happen to love the bad ones.

Oh 1990. Why don’t you quit playin’. I know what many of you may be thinking after just 25 seconds of this magical cinematic masterpiece. “This must be some sort of parody song. How can you rant comedically on a parody song?” Well hold tight, there beloved reader. This happens to be … an ACTUAL SONG. No parody about it. A bizarre and disturbing song complete with message and all! But this isn’t “Navigating The Song” landscape, this is “Navigating The Music Video Landscape.” So let’s focus on the matter at hand. The. Awful. Video. It is the single most terrifying memory one could have of their childhood: Being surrounded by children who point and laugh at you.

It’s kind of like having four kids pin you into a corner and shout “You shit your pants!” but you stand your ground and proclaim “I DID NOT! I WOULD NEVER!” only to realize that you had in fact pooped your Bugle Boy’s. Now take all of those emotions and throw in the words “Yo momma!” How does that feel? Yikes, right? The rest of the video consists of shadowy imagery of a young woman stranded on the streets facing dealers, pimps and johns. There’s nothing funny about a young woman getting her hair yanked on as a threat via some hoodlum. Nothing funny about that at all. What does happen to be funny, is that there are members of the hip hop group who perform this hard boiled inner city, tale always watching like peeping toms and giving rhyming commentary. So the thought process is: “Oh shit! This poor lady is gonna get taken advantage of! I had better call the police …


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Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom – Number Two

Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom

There are a scant few places on Earth that reveal more about a person, than the the places they piss and shit. Only a handful come to mind: bars, churches and opium dens. Still the bathroom and our activities in them, tells so much more.

Take for instance the time I had brunch with a South Indo-chinese war lord to haggle the price of “appropriated” human organs (it’s a bear market). Our exchanges grew heated, so, I excused myself to the restroom. It’s a classic negotiation tactic…and I had to take a dump.

Mid-crap, my mind drifted, away from the low ball offer I was given for kidneys, to the walls of my stall. There on the wall paper among the ugly rubber ducky wall paper, there was shit. Someone had written on the wall…with shit.

What trauma in life brings a man to write with his own dookie? A broken home? Desperation? A lack of shit colored pens? My mind reeled. The implications were enormous. Then, the paranoia set in. What else had this mad shit writer doodled on? I scanned the stall in a frenzy. Shit? Shit? Nothing. Just the wall.

I finished, washed my hands and pondered. Who was this shit scribbling freak? A chill ran through me. He could be anyone. He could be anywhere at anytime. In fact, he might have there with me. Possibly, lurking in the trash can. A round house kick to it’s side proved it empty.

Panicked, I opened the door and ran screaming from the restaurant. I’m sure my war lord friend was curious as to why. He never did settle on a kidney price. Such is life, I suppose, when walls are written with shit.

What did I learn from all of this? A good many things, let me tell you. One, no one understands the words “Poop, shit wall writing!” when you scream it. Two, there is a man named Poupschitz Walrighting who frequents the same restaurants as Indochinese war lords and three, I will be meeting his lawyers next week.

My advice is this: The world is a weird place, so, to be safe assume everyone has shit on their hands.

 
 

EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

Practical Advice Learned in The Bathroom – Number One

Being your average, ordinary everyday bad ass, I have used many a bathroom in my time. Be it for the enjoyment of wash closet architecture and tiling or for their secluded enclaves to woo buck-toothed hookers, I’ve enjoyed them all, in one way or another. Though, mostly for pissing, shitting …and prostitutes.

Those same wash rooms have taught me a lot too. Things that, when learned and applied, have greatly enhanced my life. Like, never, ever trust a priest taking confession in port-a-potty, or that “glory holes” are not for recyclables or for glory and it’s impossible to speak to a stranger about your mother while urinating.

While those nuggets of wisdom could warrant a Reader’s Digest novella of scatological life lessons themselves, there are far more to be had. After scouring the world’s bathrooms on the tail end of hangovers, cocaine binges and burrito laden emergencies, I’ve amassed, a literal ass load of practical guidance…just for you. You don’t have to thank me. It’s been my pleasure in more ways than one. The trials and tribulations…the horrific sting ring. Okay, maybe not the sting ring.

Oh, the learned shit, the shits have wrought. There’s so much they’ve taught me. Like the time I was in the Memphis International Airport. I had recently arrived from Paris on a red flight, after selling pirated copies of “The Passion of The Christ” to nuns (don’t ask). On that flight, I had sex with a strange overweight school teacher. She fell in love. When the plane landed I ran. She’d come looking for me, of course, so, I “B” lined for the first bathroom I made eye contact with.

I hid in one of the bathroom’s stalls. A good deal of non-fat girl intrusion time passed and I noticed that no one else had entered the restroom. Weird. I chocked it up to my “manly awesomeness” repelling non-awesome men.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slammed open, then, my stall door was kicked in. It was a group of men in black S.W.A.T. uniforms and gear. I was exposed in all my cowered, whimpering glory. A man pulled me from my chubby girl-less, safe haven.

Believing I was about to be violated sexually, prepared myself. I worked at my belt buckle, but, to my surprise I merely incensed the men. They instead searched my person and the carry on bag full of condoms, miniature booze bottles and dental floss. “Is this it?”, the sex army leader sternly questioned. “The floss, yes. I’m happy to share. Please don’t rape me.”, I replied…vanquished. He looked me over in a puzzled and angry way, then, I was roughly escorted from the bathroom and taken to a security office.

After being questioned for hours, having my luggage searched twice (once by dogs) and receiving 3 body cavity searches (not by dogs), I learned what had happened. A sexually satisfied fat girl saw me run into the bathroom. Unable to breach the sacred barrier of the “Men’s Room” to cash in on a supposed “marriage proposal”, she sought other ways to have me extracted. She told them I was a terrorist. She has since been jailed due to being crazy. I was let go on the grounds of my awesomeness.

I learned a couple of words of advice from this situation. Some involving dogs, others involving fat lovers in confined spaces, still others involving fear pissing. The biggest lesson I learned, however, is that a bathroom is no safe haven when it comes to strange fat jilted mile-high club lovers. My advice…never bang a fat chick that needs a marriage proposal to get it on, because, in the end, there’s going to be a S.W.A.T. Team involved.


EltonElton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

Carolyn Meeks’ Video Diary: OCD

 

funny-skit-meeksCarolyn Meeks is a singer and an actress in the Big Apple and she has many, many feelings and opinions on pretty much everything. She is recording them for Comedy Rants.

Written and performed by Jenn Dodd
Edited by Sharon Jamilkowski

 

Jenn Dodd is an entire sketch comedy troupe in one smart, riotous little package. She is premiering her new video series with opinionated character, Carolyn Meeks, on Comedy Rants. Jenn’s must see blog and YouTube channel are her Jenneral Assembly of characters and their stories.

Carolyn Meeks’ Video Diary – Jenn Dodd

 

Jenn Dodd is an entire sketch comedy troupe in one smart, riotous little package. She is premiering her new video series with opinionated character, Carolyn Meeks, on Comedy Rants. Jenn’s must see blog and YouTube channel are her Jenneral Assembly of characters and their stories.


 

I’m not sure why, but I have always taken great delight in watching people become enraged. Two reasons spring to mind A) there is something quite raw and rather honest about anger and I suppose it makes me uncomfortable. Which, in turn, makes me laugh. And B) I can think of very few situations that are truly rant or rage-worthy in every-day life. I say the following as a former customer service representative for Verizon Wireless; there is nothing more hilarious than watching someone scream at a bill payment machine.

So, you can imagine, I was thrilled to film a video with the prompt of “comedy rant”. Carolyn Meeks is a character who’s hopelessly skewed perspective on life is only perpetuated by her own navel gazing. Which made her the perfect candidate for a video diary on “things that she finds unjust.”

Carolyn Meeks’ Video Diary is the first of a series and I am thrilled to premier it on ComedyRants.com – Jenn Dodd