Pat Buchanan racist and fired, Whitney Houston dead and buried live (on the web, not a-live) … and (no) more!
Award Season 2012 continues to spunk in our faces – this week it’s a BAFTA special, featuring all the BAFTA news you could want, and some you don’t!
This week: Gisele Bundchen’s boobs, Roseanne Barr for President, and a Jew beats the bishop.
Unfortunately, that’s not as exciting as it sounds…
No music video or hilarious short this week, instead a trailer I shot for the inevitably hilarious Liverpool Improvathon (which once again, I will be live-blogging for 33.5 straight hours), and a promo I edited/effected for UKeffects.
Pat Buchanan: Disney-in-training
Buchanan, host of something somewhere, was fired for being a racist, homophobic, anti-Semitic asshole.
Fair enough, I hear you say, but he had only been portraying the role of a giant doosh in the hope of winning the coveted Walt Disney A-like award, which is handed out to hateful cockshitting spunkholes every year, on the first of Cuntober; the day of Disney’s birth.
Shortly after his firing, Buchanan posted this song on his blog:
“This is the greatest song of all time, about the greatest man of all time. I look forward to the freedom my firing will bring, allowing me to spend more time on each and every one of the activities mentioned in the ditty.
Also, I hate Jews, black and gays. Have a good weekend!”He may or may not have said.
Huston, 7 days after her death.
The dead diva’s burial attracted celebrities from all over the show, from other singers and actors to professional racist bumhole Mel Gibson, and parking attendants that once sung on American Idol.
The entire service was live streamed because MTV realised if they put on any more reruns of Jersey Shore the entire population of The United States would die of televisually transmitted STDs. TVSTDs, if you will.
Absolutely nothing else has happened this week. Fuck celebrities for being boring over the last seven days.
It’s (a slightly late) Movie Monday!
I believe that the completion of this mind-blowing, eye-popping, ass-kicking, cat-scanning, fuck-punching, effects-spewing, ball-straining, brain-melting music video now officially makes me King Pimp Of Music Video Awesomeness.
I have been led to believe this is a real title in the industry.
Steven Spielberg was proclaimed King Pimp once. After receiving the honor in 1982, he decided to shave his beard off and everyone realised that without it, he looks like a terrified sheep.
The title was rescinded days later. Sheep are not pimps.
Not by a long shot.
Anyway, you’re here for a video:
And so, I win.
Remember to hire me, because I will make your mind implode with my spectacular fantasticness.
And I say that with all humility.
Oscars?
Nope
Grammys?
Nope
VMAs?
Nope
Hilary Clinton Transvestite Lookalike Of The Year?
Nope
It’s the BAFTAs!
“The what?” I hear you ask.
The BAFTAS are the British Acadamy of Frolicking with Trepidatious Anxiety‘s way of giving back to the film community.
Whilst also trying to make up for the fact Britain hasn’t had a home-grown film industry since the 70s.
Yay Britian!
Apparently. He’ll be receiving the John Hurt Award for Outstanding Achievement in Being John Hurt. Which is fair enough, because I’m sure you’ll agree he is the best John Hurt around.
At least the best John Hurt that is often referred to as “The White John Hurt”.
His current achievements are certainly better than those of Mississippi John Hurt (The Black John Hurt) ,who came in second, having died over 45 years ago.
His runner up certificate will be shot into the heart of the sun, where it is believed all Blues musicians go when they die.
Is this really news?
Does anyone care that two dead chicks are being played by two alive chicks in two movies that I haven’t seen?
What do you mean Thatcher’s still alive?
I would possibly care if it were a fight between zombie Marilyn and pensioner Thatcher…
But it isn’t.
It’s not even a battle between nude Playboy Marilyn and Margaret Thatcher being in a totally different room so I wouldn’t have to look at her hideous melty old lady face.
Anyway. That’s happening.
More celebrity news after the jump…
Hello, and welcome to part eight of a four-hundred-thousand-and-six part project that is raping my brain with its ghostly demon mouse-eared phallus. Everyone in the Western world has fond memories of Disney movies, but upon re-watching them, I discovered those memories were lies. Thus enter these monthly columns, in which I watch the ‘classic’ films one by one, in release order. It’s an awful job, but nobody else was going to shed light on the falsehoods Disney has perpetrated for almost a century… So, without further ado, let’s get this show a Mexican triumvirate of taxis on the road with The Three Caballeros…
Who's your favourite Disney character? Mine is 'Donald Du'.
Now I’m not one to complain – especially about Disney – but my first complaint? That I have to watch this movie the Walt Disney Corporation, in all their wisdom, decided that it was not necessary for their audience to see the words on the screen.
(See image.)
(On the left.)
(Next to these words)
(Where the image is, stupid.)
This would be fine, if the first forty days and forty nights (because Disney was a Noah fan. And a Pedophile. And a geriatrophile. And a molester of small pets. And medium sized pets. And also large pets.) of this movie were not CUM SWILLING, FUCK PUNCHING, WHORE STRANGLING, CAT RAPING WORDS ON THE JIZZTITTING SCREEN.
(I should have probably mentioned beforehand ; this column is rated PG, as in Parental neGlect for letting children read this.)
Of course, the missing letters could be blamed on a shitty transfer to DVD. But they can also be blamed on the existence of both Miley Cyrus and Hitler. I for one choose the latter.
After a month of credits, we finally get to start the movie; except it’s not a movie, it’s an image of a large parcel on a table. This wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, if unintelligible meth-head Donald Du(ck) didn’t turn over the tag on it and read the Mexican Spanish, as if it were his native tongue.
It’s a ‘birthday gift’ from his ‘friends’ in ‘Latin America’.
Did all those words need sarcastic quotation markatations? Probably not; but if I’m to successfully imply that Donald Duck is a mule for the drug cartels it might as well be done sarcastically, because I hate to break the news, but he’s a fictional fucking character, and so any drugs he does successfully import will also be fictional. And for that if nothing else, I’m sure you will concur he is a cunt.
Donald Fuck opens the box to discover three smaller boxes inside. And inside those three boxes are another three boxes. And in those three boxes are another three boxes containing despair, regret and a longing for a swift death.
More of this Disney Deconstruction after the jump…
