Thursday, September 17, 2009

Hey, Hey, You, You, I Don't Like My Husband!

Form a line, dudes who never grew out of chain wallets and mass produced AFI hoodies. Avril Lavigne is single again! You know there’s gotta be some pussy out there who wants swap eyeliner and genital fluids with this bitch so that his Dad won’t find out he’s gay. Newsflash: Your dad knows your gay. And, nice pants. I can see your camel toe.

Don’t get me wrong – we’ve all made some terrible fashion mistakes in our time. But it’s been 10 years and Avril is still wearing the same socks. Avril, you’re almost 30. Maybe it’s time to wear socks that don’t make you look like The Hamburgler's slutty sister.

Monday, September 7, 2009

This One Goes Out to You, Uncle Joey

I love me some scorned white women music. And I’d be hard pressed to think of a better song than, “You Oughta Know” or a more appropriate bitch to cover it than Britney. Sista represented in Greensboro, NC last night.

Two of my favorite things, together at last! Like dipping Wendy’s fries in a frosty. You wouldn’t think to combine the two at first, but once you do it becomes sinful that Wendy’s doesn’t offer frosty packets in lieu of ketchup. Britney knows what I’m talkin’ about. She probably asks for the melted cheese on the side too. (It’s an extra 50 cents and if the cashier doesn’t know which button to hit, you can tell him “miscellaneous food.” Don’t judge me.)

All I know is that if there is a God, Dave Coulier can feel Alanis scratching her nails down someone else’s back right now.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

John Mayer's Pigment Issues Are Getting Me Off

Either someone dug up an old mugshot of John Mayer busted for speeding (NO!!! SPEEDING?!?) or one of the Growing Up Gotti boys is trying to seduce the shit out of me. Oh no, it’s totally working. I never knew how attracted I was to sunspots before. His forehead is so splotchy this could be an ad for sunscreen. But like the Coppertone Sport manly kind.

Is it just me or do you feel like Mayer’s going to ask you out for a cup of coffee and arrange a threesome with the barista? This photo’s got a real Wanna-Hear-The-Poem-I-Wrote-And-Finger-Each-Other-After-It vibe. Again, I’m into it. And yes, I do want to hear your poem. I’ll give you my interpretation of it after we do facial peels.

Friday, August 14, 2009

The Kardashian I Will Not Be Keeping Up With

Kourtney Kardashian forgot to take her birth control and got pregnant. That’s not a premise for an upcoming episode of her reality show; that’s her life. You know Khloe is so excited she might not be "the fat one" next season.

Which producer on Keeping Up With the Kuntashians suggested this storyline? Sure, I’ll tune in for Kourtney's mood swings and cravings for pickles and ice cream attention, but you can’t write a baby off a reality show! She better have some Mary-Kate/Ashley talent crawl out of her Virginia Slim if she doesn't want late night re-shoots compliments of her dumb kid screwing up his lines.

This time cry like you’re not really a millionaire. C'mon, just think about that time your mom's nude photo almost leaked before her Maxim spread came out. That's sad, right?

The biggest problem I have with this story is that Kourtney admits that her fetus is an accident – like it’s no big deal she forgot to take her pill. Like she forgot to set her DVR. (Except she probably never forgets to do that.) If you can’t remember to take a pill once a day to prevent another living human from feasting on your insides, you’re going to be one hell of a responsible mother.

Kourtney finally released the identity of the father.

Drum roll, please....

It’s Shorty! The homeless guy the sisters took care of until he didn’t go with their outfits anymore. Congrats to the new couple.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Enterprise Rent-a-Lemon Round 2

I got my car back today. The civic was in the body shop (not that kind of body shop) after getting blasted from behind (yes, that kind of blasted) by a woman with 13 consonants in her name. In a row. I could probably find her name scribbled on a super important piece of scratch paper that I threw somewhere, but right now I can only remember there are 3 x’s in it and you wouldn’t believe me if I posted it anyway. Yes, she was Asian and yes, I do have enough pride not to make a joke about her driving.

But seriously, women drivers! C’mon, ladies. If you’re not going to watch the road, get back in the kitchen and make some meatloaf. Or in this case, orange chicken. Whatever you’re good at, really. Just don’t try to get fancy with risotto and F it up is all I’m sayin’. That was a disgrace to Italy, Jeffrey! (It's a Next Food Star thing, you wouldn't understand.)

I should mention that I took back the busted car Enterprise rented me last week to tell my favorite employee that the check engine light, check tire pressure alarm, service airbag alarm, and some light that I think was trying to warn me that I could be struck by a lightning bolt at any given moment – well, all of those were on and making dinging noises. When I told the Enterprise sales guy all he said was, “Don’t worry, you won’t be charged for that,” in between bites of his five-dollar foot long. He could not replace my rental for a more functional one, as Enterprise didn’t have any cars. He mumbled something about a car draught and I left.

I finally returned my excuse for a car to Enterprise this morning, so it was a joy to see all the old friends I’d made last week down at the office. They charged everything to Orange Chicken’s insurance company, which was nice, but I was taken aback when the associate asked me to rate my experience with them.

“Were you completely satisfied?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said, because I'm a pussy.

“You’re going to get a call asking you to rate our service, and we only pass if you say you were completely satisfied.”

Pass what? Is this some kind of test Enterprise office that I could shut down if I complain? I doubt it. I’m willing to bet the douchebag who calls me later for my service rating works for Enterprise, so by default he will suck too. I’d imagine it will go something like this…

“Oh, you were unsatisfied? That’s cool. So let me get this straight – the car it took you four hours to rent had mud on the seats and a flat tire? Bummer. Next time try Avis. So, seriously, from 1-5 how would you rate your Enterprise experience?”

“I’d probably give it a 3, I guess.” (Remember, I'm a pussy so giving them a 3 is really giving it to 'em good.)

On my way out the door, a sales associate was arguing with (can you believe it?) another unsatisfied customer over the phone. “Ma’am, you probably don’t need to sue Enterprise for this, but you’re more than welcome to try,” she said rolling her empty eyes at a coworker. I laughed out loud as I left the establishment, vowing to never return again.

Monday, August 3, 2009

All of the Kim Zolciak jokes have been made, so I won't go there.

Thank you, Dlisted. Now I don’t have to search high and low for a Halloween costume this year. I can be Kate Gosselin! Make that, The Slutty Kate Gosselin. If I combine this wig with the right boots and hosiery, someone in an Ed Hardy t-shirt might want to have sex with me.

I didn’t think it was possible to have a less attractive costume than HO-sama, but I’m willing to give it a shot.

My favorite part of this domepiece is the slashed price. Down to $14.99 already? Dayum. Sure, it's more than Kate pays her slave children to cut her real hair, but it’s a steal when you’re wig shopping.

What a white trash name for a wig. The Eight Is Too Much Adult Wig? No, wig namers, your grammar is too much. The grammatically correct wig title would be Eight Is Too Many, since "children" is a countable noun. For example, I took too many fertility pills. Or, A&E will probably sue this wig company for too much money and win.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

No One Ever Says, "I Want To Work at Enterprise When I Grow Up."


I should probably note that I have no idea if All State Insurance or Enterprise Rent a Car discriminate against the handicapped. I would guess that they do since this nice gentleman took the time to create a sign illustrating the point. Well, he probably didn’t make the sign himself (under breath: he’s handicapped) but he was able to get someone with enough block letter writing skills to do his dirty work, which is impressive. In All State’s defense, maybe they just discriminate against pasty white legs. Dude, if you’re that bad off, wear some Hooters hose. (If those aren’t his real legs, let the record show I feel terrible and if I ever lose my legs, I want those kind minus the socks as replacements.)

Time to let my anger out. Enterprise Rent-a-Car can go fuck off. All of you motivationless “just needed a job after college and got stuck” douchebags wasting your lives behind your ’95 MS-DOS vomit-colored oversized computer monitors calling your lamo Enterprise co-workers to see if they have a mid-sized pile of shit on their lot, which you told me you reserved yesterday…just go fuck off. And take your “What kind of insurance would you like to purchase? (that you don’t need because you’re already fully covered but I get commission if you’re too dumb to not to know that)” questions with you.

First you don’t have a car for me. Then one of your employees has to drive me 20 miles away from civilization to Topanga Canyon, as that’s the only Enterprise in LA County with any cars left. It would have made more sense for Hertz to rent a car from Avis, drive it until it runs out of gas and desert it in an Alamo lot, where it could then be towed to Enterprise so you could rent it to someone else in front of me.

The car I finally rent, well, at least the lights work. By lights I mean the check engine, check tire pressure, and “the airbag might be broke” lights. They’re all fully illuminated, you assholes. As if renting me that excuse for a vehicle wasn’t enough, you want me to drive it back to you because you forgot to inspect it before I left? Newsflash, Enterprise. Shannon Hatch is not comin’. You fucked up. You fix it.

Oh my God, I feel so much better now.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Millionaire Snatchmaker


I never liked this Millionaire Matchmaker bitch. In fact, I hate just about anyone who thinks they have a knack for setting people up. Matchmakers are always annoying out of shape women who pretend they’re happy when their friends hook up, but then complain that they’re a “third wheel” when it happens.

Grow up, matchmakers. We’re not living in Fiddler on The Roof. If you can’t find perspective mates in our internet-obsessed society, you don’t deserve to be mating.

Back to why I don’t like Patti Stanger. Reason #1: She told women trying to get with old, rich dudes to never wear their hair curly because it’s not attractive. You know what else is not attractive? Knee-tits with sunspots.

Reason #2 I discovered over at (gag me) Perez. This long-faced fake lipped judgmental piece of Jersey trash is finally engaged, after 6 years of dating some real estate douche who she met through a matchmaker. She had this advice to share with the world.

"I have a rule, if you go out a year and he doesn't propose, it goes up a carat a year," says Patti, regarding her wedding ring.

Great advice, since marriage is the kind of thing we should be rushing. I’d imagine there’s nothing more enticing to a man than charging him more for your pussy if he doesn’t marry you immediately.

If you’re so good at getting people to fall in love, why did it take 6 years for your boyfriend to ask for your gold-digging hand in marriage? When questioned about this, Patti claimed it’s because she’s “kinda fat and doesn’t like giving blow jobs” “too focused on her career.”


Sure, Patti. Dude woulda totally put a ring on it if you weren’t so focused. Being driven to succeed is such a turn off for real estate moguls. Maybe it was your straight hair.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Ice Cubes, Nurse Jackie, & Taxidermy Barretts


To those of you following my refrigerater woes, you should know that it’s fixed as a bitch. The food is soooooooo as cold as it's supposed to be. No more water in my ice trays, baby. Up and runnin’ shit. Oddly enough, the compressor valve pump nozzle pipe did burn out. Like I said the whole time.

My weekend was amazing. Parmesan fondue on top of flat iron steak amazing. I saw that gay movie, overdosed on Miso soup at a chain restaurant, and caught 6 episodes of Nurse Jackie. I’m not sure how I’ve lived so long without this show in my life. If someone could make a pill of this show, I would grind it up and put it in my coffee every morning, noon, and night.

Which is why finding this piece of “comedy” over at Pophangover this morning greatly offended me.


Sorry if Nurse Jackie isn’t Entourage, Pophangover. Some of us (albeit not many) are bored watching television shows where the entire cast looks conventionally attractive and exactly the same (besides the token fat guy). And I had such high hopes for your website after your Taxidermy Jewelry post.


So, yeah. Turns out somebody beat us all to the punch at combining fashion and roadkill. I think? I’m really hoping the leather and fur we wear comes from animals killed for the purpose of fashion – not hit by a Dodge truck and turned into assless chaps. That would be gross.

Is anyone looking at the rat in this photo and not picturing it coming to life like that mink coat in Ghostbusters?

Friday, July 17, 2009

Excuse me, ma'am, is your refrigerator running?

No, no it's not. And thanks for rubbing it in.

My refrigerator broke last Sunday. That’s the second refrigerator to break on me in three months. Yes, I’ve checked the motor coil thermo compressor circuit valve or whatever you were going to tell me to do. It’s broke.

My landlord looks like Latoya Jackson and is a bitch. Made me wait a god damn week for the Mr. Fix It guy who I’m almost positive she’s screwing to “take a look at it.” He comes over tomorrow. If he fixes my fridge, I can live my life like I’m not in a third world country. If he doesn’t, I have to purchase my third refrigerator this year. This time I’m getting the FridgeFax.

There’s nothing more depressing than putting your hopeful hand into a lukewarm refrigerator. Sweaty Diet Coke cans and questionable condiments staring at you. I hate wasting food so much I tried to tell myself Miracle Whip was vinegar-based. But instead of being angry that I had to lose an entire trip of Costco food to the refrigerator Gods, I thought perhaps I should be thankful for what my refrigerator is good for.


Top 5 Uses For My Refrigerator

5. Paper Weight

There is a fan in my kitchen, and this fridge has no problem holding down items like paper towels or misplaced cat treats when it's windy. It will, however, crush the fuck out of a cheezit.

4. Sock Drawer

I may as well use those empty crisper drawers for something.

3. Hot Yoga Studio

It’s about 20 degrees warmer than the rest of my apartment. Not saying I could roast marshmallows over it or anything, but I could possibly rent the space out for some down dog action.

2. Magnet Holder

Shockingly, no matter what temperature my re-heaterator reaches, those magnets do not let go.

1. Storage for Murdered Landlord’s Body

Listen, I know it’s not as effective as keeping her body on ice, but I’m certain I could hide her from the authorities until one of the neighbors had a plumbing issue for her to avoid next week.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Opie Taylor's Taking Hip Hop Classes Again

This makes humans seem grosser than usual to me. I don’t care if you abuse your child – it’s none of my business, frankly. But when you encourage your 5-year-old to learn sexually-charged techno dance moves and post them on youtube, you’re abusing me. And I’m not gonna take it!

Nice wife beater, Henry. Are you wearing that to look more like your daddy? Newsflash, cinnamon stick, your dad’s retarded. I bet your report card is filled with S minuses in conduct and Daddy don’t give a shit. He thinks it’s cute when you bring him MGD’s from the fridge and bully kids in your class who can’t do the robot. It’s not.

You see, Henry, poppin' and lockin' will never save you from the wrath you will have to endure in middle school. No matter how many youtube hits your videos get, you’ll always have one shortcoming. Because I don’t want it to come from me directly, let’s just say that I’m pretty sure Brandon Davis thinks you’re a firecrotch. Hear that? That’s Paris Hilton laughing at you. How does it feel?


Thanks to Videogum for being first at the scene.

For more of Henry’s wacky moves, including that time he challenged his challenged older sister to a dance off, click here to waste more of your day.

(Yes, I typed the last line for html practice. Nailed it!)

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Cisco Adler of Hamsters

Here it is. Latest youtube sensation. A hamster with gigantic balls falling asleep.

Why am I so bitter? He is cute, in an elephant man sorta way. I guess I’m just angry that some no-talent hamster has more of a youtube following sleeping than I could ever manage to have awake. Hey, Pinkberries, at least I keep my clothes on. Some of us still have our dignity.

So let me get this straight – he’s a hamster…with human-sized balls…who’s an internet sensation because everyone’s laughing at him? If his name isn’t William Hung, his owner should be killed.

Most of the time I like to think I’m above teabag humor, but then I see hamster balls and write a Carlos Mencia joke. I want Pixar to bring Nuggets to the big screen so I can watch him stuff those sweet bean bags down a gopher’s throat while screaming, “Once you go rodent, you swallow my load-ent!” I don’t know why William Hung is Mexican now, but I swear we could get Patton and Janeane to do the voices.


Monday, May 4, 2009

Tampon Tail

I frequent a beauty blog called eyeslipsface. Ok, I’ve never actually read it, but they send me weekly links to their blog as a punishment for buying cheap mineral make up from them. (I’m big into savings. And saving big.) Before I deleted today’s email, a blog title jumped out at me – Tampon Tail.

My first thought was that Double T was the newest X-Men character. I had already planned on buying all of her Slurpee cups & giving them out as gag gifts. (Quite literally.)

How cool would Tampon Tail be? “Serious actress” Megan Fox seduces bad guys all over the city – stay with me – and just before they think they’re about to get the goods, she pulls that sopping wet plug from her lady parts, wraps the tail around their necks, and chokes them until her tampon is dry and she can re-insert. Her worst nightmare? A superhero named Toxic Shock. He wears a cape and smells like catfish. I am so watching this movie. Probably through my fingers while I ask the guy next to me to tell me when it’s over, but I’m watching it.


I hate to burst my bubble, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be buying Toxic Shock 3D Slurpee cups anytime soon. The article, of course, was actually referring to Britney’s tampon mishap at her concert last week.

"I see London I see France I see Britneys…Tampon?? Yikes bikini season is near and I have to say ladies make sure to tuck in those Tampons! It sucks having dear ol’ Aunt Flow around during beach weather, but sometimes you just gotta cross your fingers and hope all goes well with that convenient torpedo of cotton. Question is…would you tell a fellow female her tampon string is showing?


Excuse me, Achelle, did your mother have something against consonants? Nevermind. I’d appreciate if you didn’t use words like, “Yikes” when discussing an exposed tampon string. Pretty sure I’d rather be the girl who shit in the hot tub on youtube than Britney in this video. It’s horrifying. I’m embarrassed just looking at tampons in the wrapper. (Wrapper? Like it’s candy.) Whatever.

I do enjoy the profound question you posed for your blog subscribers. Would I tell my friend if her tampon string was showing? Sure. As long as it’s still white.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Popeyes Is the Chris Brown of Fast Food Restaurants.

Apparently, Rochester, NY’s ABC affiliate WHAM (no exclamation point) couldn’t find one white person who eats Popeyes chicken. Shame on you, channel 13. Plant someone. You have interns!

I love that half of the cars in the drive-thru drove there because the Popeyes across town had already run out of chicken. Customers must have passed at least 3 KFC’s on the way and thought, “Ya know, I’m takin’ my chances at Popeyes.” Their loyalty should be commended – especially the man who calls customer service to find yet another Popeyes location. It’s like they’re all going back to their abusive boyfriends. Don’t do it, Rihanna! He’s going to run out of green beans next week and tell you he’s sorry. He’s not.

I, for one, hope Popeyes is proud of itself. The children in at least one caravan went hungry for the night due to some general manager’s inventory error. “You mean to tell me that we can’t feed our kids?!?” Ma’am, before you starve your children for the evening WHAM channel 13 news suggests that you grab some pigs feet on your way home and tell your knocked up teenage daughter to throw them in the oven at 325 after she makes the kool-aid.

Tune in next week for WHAM’S coverage of a 20-car-pileup – all Asians at the wheel. Coincidence, they swear.

To follow Popeyes on Twitter (I had to) click here

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Q: Shannon, how does it feel not to move past the preliminary round of an amateur stand up contest it took you 2 and a half hours to drive to?

A: Exactly how you’d think it feels.

But then I found this video and I felt much better about myself. Let's hear it for other people's misery! OPM, if you're black.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

My Top 5 PG-13 Movies of All-Childhood

I’m in a stand-up comedy competition tonight. The rules say I must keep my material “PG-13.” I think that means I can curse in moderation, be as violent as I want, and I can show my tits for a few seconds at the end of my set.

I’m such an asshole. I am seriously looking up “PG-13” guidelines to see which jokes are ok to tell. Jesus. If there are any kids under 13 at the comedy club, perhaps they need better security – not cleaner comics.

To celebrate cleaning up my act as little as possible for tonight, here are my top 5 favorite PG-13 movies, from back when I was first allowed to watch them. I haven’t seen most of them in a while, so forgive me if I’m a bit foggy on the plots.

#5 – Howard The Duck


This pervy duck from another planet starts crushing on Caroline in the City and the guy from Beetlejuice sticks his tongue in that part of a car that charges your cell phone. If that doesn’t entice you to watch this movie again, I don’t know what would. (Upon further inspection it turns out this movie is rated PG. It stays on my list because it strikes me as PG-13. I make the rules.)

Rated PG-13 (for the sake of this blog) for moderate language & brief duck nudity, if you count the feather-covered tits in the “Playduck” mag he flips through.

#4 – Adventures In Babysitting


Check out Elizabeth Shue’s blazer! So hot. “The dishes are done, man” dude has a major boner for “Ali with an ‘I’” (who can blame him?) and they all go to the city to pick up Ali’s blind, rat-loving friend from a bus station…but they run into some trouble! It was either a rival babysitting club or gang-related. Don’t remember.

Rated PG-13 for language, violence, & that do-not-try-this-at-home side of the building scale they all take part in.

#3 – The Lost Boys


Corey Haim and Corey Feldman – you probably recognize them from A&E’s reality show, The Two Coreys (Haim plays the lesbian). They fill squirt guns with holy water and garlic to defeat Jack Bauer and his buddies. Grandpa’s the coolest. He’s a taxidermist but I almost typed “ventriloquist.”

Rated PG-13 because of the drug use both Coreys take part in years later.

#2 – Just One of the Guys


You’re probably aware that this was not my first choice of images to best illustrate the film. Google image Joyce Hyser’s breasts all you will, a split screen of “Terry” before and after is the best you’ll come up with.

A hot chick named Terry (never met one in my life, btw) goes undercover as a dude for a high school newspaper article. She flashes her gigantic tits in an effort to win the heart of her new buddy who thinks she’s a dude. I can suspend a little disbelief – but where is she hiding these D cups all movie? Sure, she’s got that square-shouldered Thriller-ish leather jacket most of the time, but those puppies are not going to be suppressed comfortably. Maybe that’s why they looked so good at the end. They were swollen from months of being held down with gaffer tape and gasping for air.

Rated PG-13 for that godawful tuxedo t-shirt her brother wears to the prom.

#1 – Children of the Corn

I think this calls for a trailer. This movie scared the piss out of me when I was little, mostly because one of the leaders looked like Budnick from Salute Your Shorts. These kids get together and kill all the adults, which yes, sounds great in theory, but they are not the cool grown-up killing kind. They’re like young Pat Buchanan’s with farm shovels.

PG-13 (actually R, but who’s counting?) because I had no appetite for corn even years after seeing it. To be fair, I didn’t eat corn all that much before I saw it. I'm not into flossing or dead parents.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

I Like Square Butts!

No, Sir Mix-a-Lot, you like rectangular paychecks.

Thanks to Burger King’s latest ad campaign, Spongebob and Sir Mix-a-Lot are finally collaborating. I haven’t seen a better promotional team since Coolio and George Jetson tried to sell us Odor Eaters. (Note: That never happened. But with any luck Weird Al will read this and make it happen.)

While I have no problem with Sir Needs-a-Lot’s endorsement choices, I do have a problem addressing him as sir. Really, Mr. Mix-a-Lot? What member of the
British Empire knighted you? What exactly did you contribute to society to earn that title? Sir Isaac Newton formulated the laws of motion. I don’t think writing an early 90’s butt ballad counts as public service.

Baby Got Back
’s been making thicker girls feel better about themselves since Pringles hit the market. It’s like the Spanx of music.

The best lyric of the song – hands down – is, “I wanna get with ya, won’t cuss or hit ya.” (Keep in mind, Sir Mix-a-Lot said this before Chris Brown made it cool.) What an enticing way to get into my pants. Glad you’re not going to physically or verbally abuse me if I agree to sleep with you. Can I call you sometime? Your number still 1-900-MIX-A
LOT? Maybe I can come over and you can bend me over one of those gigantic pieces of ass furniture from your video.


Even white boys got to shout.