This Isn’t About Sushi Porn At All

So first, please tell me there’s some sort of spam filter I can add to my mailbox so I stop receiving countless photos of sushi porn.  If I see one more slice of raw tuna I’m gonna spew all over this keyboard.  Again.

Does This Make Anyone Else Dry Heave?

You know what doesn’t make me dry heave?  What is guaranteed to make me giddy and giggly?  What always makes me happier than Honey Badger after a rattlesnake inspired nap?  What’s more enjoyable than tonguing down unicorns?

Do you promise not to judge?

Promise again.

Ok fine.  American Idol.

You promised you wouldn’t judge, assholes.

I can’t help it!  I swear to you, twenty minutes into an episode I get face cramps from grinning wider than my shredded vagina will be in 7 short months.  *shudder*

And speaking of judges?  I really thought I’d hate the new ones.  But no, I want to motorboat Stephen Tyler even though by boobs feel like they’re stuffed with barbed wire and lemon juice.  I love it when he gets all creepy and inappropriate with the chick contestants before doing one of his high pitched screeches.  Nay, I LURV it, Interwebz.  Why am I so obsessed with dirty old men?

But can I just get all thirteen year old girl for a second and tell you about my new boyfriend Casey Abrams?  I’ve wanted to exfoliate my lady bits with his beard since his very first audition.  He walked in all scruffy and slouchy and looking like he’d be 2011’s William Hung.  But then?  Sweet mother of Motown, he tore that shit UP.

(You can skip ahead to 1:30 for the actual singing, but I highly recommended sitting through the whole thing for the Jim Henson reference.)

And then?  During Hollywood Week?  When everyone pretends like they have a stylist and they forget their words and explode into balls of tears?  Not my boy.  Nope.  Clad in some head to toe gray frump, he rolled out his upright bass and made my knees weak.

*swoon*

And this?  I don’t think I even have the words for this performance.

*takes long drag of ice water and fans self*

So judge ye all ye want…ye.  What’s not to love about a show that gives a guy that looks like that a chance to sing and play like that?  AND there’s a mess of lewd remarks from a dirty old man who could totally fit J. Lo’s entire ass in his mouth.  This is the best season EVER.


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34 thoughts on “This Isn’t About Sushi Porn At All

  1. I could watch your boy Casey bang his bass all day long 😛 And when Stephen added his magic touch to the song I knew right then I would never wash these panties again.

  2. What. the. eff. lady.

    Will you please link the post where you announced the babyness? How the flurg did I miss that. Jebus Chrisp. <–I'm already watching my language out of respect, see?

    Congratulations, woman. Holy Ship.

  3. I hear you on AL. When J. Lo puckers a poor-thing-so-sorry to the losers I wish I could have her as my big sister, to nurse me through all my literary agent form letter rejections. How fucked up is that?

  4. I’m with Tom- that thing looks like a snail. And something I would never eat, even though I’ll partake in the occasional sushi meal. An another note, never mind the mouth: why is Steven Tyler’s hair and skin prettier than mine?

  5. First off.
    That little piece of sushi looks like a positively demure slice of raw fish who appears to be crossing her legs in front in a most prudish display.
    Second.
    Your vagina won’t be shredded. It will
    Be stretched and torn. That is unless you start that horrifying perineum (?) massage with exotic oils.
    Third American Idol needed a kick in the ass and it got one.
    Fourth.
    I actually pulled off the road into a parking lot to type this comment out on my iPhone. THAT is how much I adore you.

      1. Sadly no.
        It’s always some wild haired lady with not a shred of decency, long jagged fingernails and dry hands.
        If Robert Pattinson and Gary Oldman got together and offered I might change my mind but until then no one can massage my perineum.

      1. The more I look at the cross legged raw fish the more I’m convinced it’s going to unfurl it’s dainty appendages, hop up and run right after me.
        PURE NIGHTMARE FUEL!

  6. There is something about a double base that hits me right in the lady parts every time. Not sure about the exfoliating of my nether regions, cause that just leads to more work, toner, moisturizer….

    Dufmanno is right, not so much shredded. More stretched and torn and swollen and left looking like the elephant man’s left butt cheek, but not shredded. Just think your vagina will soon be able to do impersonations, “i am not an animal”, now that’s a party trick.

    1. So I booked a photo shoot for myself when I went bald…just for the sake of preserving the look. Are you saying I need to book one for my vagina too before its…gulp…too late?

  7. That pic is NASSY. You may also go through a poultry aversion . . . I remember it well.

    Lovin’ that Casey! That boy’s voice is delicious.

  8. I admit… I’ve been too lazy to get around to watching American Idol. But I want to, ’cause I’m actually interested in how the new judges act. However, I’m more interested in who keeps emailing you sushi.

    I only ever get porn porn.

  9. That thing makes me gag. Ugh. I am afraid to throw up because for sure I’d be throwing up slugs. You win. I have no appetite for sushi now and you know how much I love sushi. Actually, I was going to get lunch, now I am not so sure any more.

  10. That sushi pic violated my soul.
    No wonder you want it out of your inbox.
    Don’t watch idol but mostly because I’m not in the states so not so up to date on pop culture.
    I could get on board with a dirty old Steven Tyler though.
    Appropriate or not, there is a time and a place for those lips.

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