November 6, 2008 | Comments ()

By Brian Prisco | Eloquent Eloquence | November 6, 2008 |


What a fantastic coincidence that the week I took control of Prisco’s fiefdom a number of Pajibettes invaded the site, riding on My Little Ponies through a field of daisies while brandishing their Vibrators of Justice and pelting the penis-laden with Extra Strength Midol. It was a glorious, nay, transcendent day for all of us who have breasts and secretly enjoy the crazy that is Tyra Banks and her wigs of I’m Asking You Skinny Bitches Questions So You Can Talk About ME. So much awesome transpired in one day: The Princess Bride, Anne of Green Gables, 10 Things I Hate About You, Dustin’s kidnapping and subsequent torture … if anyone had mentioned The Babysitters Club series I may have exploded into a thousand star sprinkles. My sincere congratulations ladies on a takeover worthy of even Pookie’s respect. I may be lying about that last part.

Of course, the most important event of the week was the election. I spent the day basking in the glow of casting my ballot. I spent the early evening making homemade French onion soup as a means to distract myself from my nerves. I spent more of the early evening cackling as my roommate yelled at the TV to stop calling states when 0% of the precincts had reported. And I spent the late hours of the night cheering in the streets of West Philly, as my friends and neighbors danced on the trolley lines and banged pots and pans. The discourse in Pajibaland remained, for the most part, civil and intelligent and full of the sappy. We have a rather small contingent of right-leaning commenters, but luckily for us they’re vocal and provided some excellent observations in two primarily pro-Obama threads. Despite our feelings regarding the outcome of the election, it’s going to be an interesting four years.

Before we get to the comments, I’d like to simultaneously thank and curse Mr. Prisco for entrusting me with his empire of snark. Thank, because I never dreamed that I would get a chance to write (even though it’s a few scant paragraphs) for a site that I’ve admired and adored for over two years. Curse, because reading every comment for a week straight is enough to send even the most fervent devotees of this place into fits of hysteria. There were over 500 comments ALONE in the Election Day thread. I love you all, but I sincerely hope that you spend eternity in hell, listening to Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero” on a loop while naked pictures of Christian Bale and Kate Winslet dangle above your perpetually unsatiated genitals.

Drop and gimme ten:

10. “We didn’t have no big fancy commercial fishin’ boats out in the country.* So I would steal titty mags and such from friend’s dads. I made the mistake once of burying them in a garbage bag out in the wood, as my mom was in big spring-cleaning mode. I did not understand the concept of condensation, and within days they turned into a giant mass of moist flakes. This did not compromise their utility as much as you’d think.

*We did have a cousin-rubbin’ shed, though.” —firedmyass

9. “I’d be surprised if any Pajiban male could actually pull off the bad ass act. I tried once but I’m pretty sure there are international treaties against ginger males acting tough because I just end up getting chased by idiots down the street and having people fight over me in pubs vis a vis the eternal debate of who I look more like Harry Potter or Ron Weasley.” —jim

(I’ve been lucky enough to meet three Pajiban males. One of them is a former ballroom dance instructor, one has photographic evidence that he once dressed up as a darling little fairy, and one is Seth. They’re men. MANLY men. So watch what you say or else they’ll put out your lights. )

8. “I was at a disco in Norwich, England once, and this guy walked up and started dancing with me … and then licked my face. Note to Paji(hee)bans: This is not an effective pick-up strategy.” —girlnone

“Girlnone, licking the face of a stranger resulted in Tommy Lee and Pam Anderson’s marriage/divorce/marriage/divorce/marriage/divorce, so I’m sure that guy thought the technique would work on just any woman. He forgot that it only works on whores.” —Sofía

“It also resulted in terrifying new strains of Hepatitis and the dreaded “Super Herp”. It’s like the Africanized killer bee of STD’s.” —branded

(More ineffective pick-up strategies: dancing with a girl and grabbing her fuck it bucket, telling her that her breasts would be something he’d order off the menu, and being old enough to have commanded the Rough Riders. And no, none of these things have actually happened to me. :sobs quietly:)

7. “Um…I really want Corey Haim to make me a painting. Can I decide what it’s a painting of? If so, I want it to be of vampire Keifer Sutherland on a Carousel with the words “Thou Shall Not Want” on it somewhere. I would totally pay $350 for that.” —VeinsRhighways

6. “My friends and I bought the worst romance novels we could find last summer. Mine was some crazy story about an island off north Scotland, where this woman who was like the lady of the island had to fall in love with a green-eyed man in order for the people on her island to be able to have girl babies again. Or was it boy babies? I don’t know, there was some kind of anti-baby curse. Did I mention that about half of the characters spoke in a Scottish “accent”? I threw it across the room at least five times.

Anyway, after the leading man had been described for about the fifty-bajillionth time as having “feline grace”, I looked over to see my overweight cat Singe licking her own ass, then looking up at me like, “Whut?”

It was a special moment.” —Blonde Savant

(Romance novels can kiss my ass. Wait, romance novels can gently caress the soft mounds of my buttocks before plunging into the damp folds of my feminine longing.)

5. “I always confuse The Mist with The Fog. It’s the same thing, isn’t it? If someone comes out with The Haze or Fuck I Can’t See A Fucking Thing Through This Foggy Mist, I’m fucked.” —Goldie

4. “If I had a baby, I dig Clara. If I had a boy, I dig Edward. If I had a dog, I dig Stinkfist. If I had a Coke, I’d teach the world to sing. And if I had to puke, yes — I would do it in a fish tank. Again.” —Skitz

3. “I can’t stop crying and these bitch tears drip dropping on my keyboard are bound to lead to electrocution. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that tonight, I get to remove the asterisk next to President of the United States of America from my Kindergarten list of things I can be when I grow up.” —jM

(See? You don’t have to be dirty to get my attention. That moved me jM. Now take off your shirt.)

2. “As they crawl towards each other:

TK: Hey, Dustin.

Dustin: Hey, TK.

TK: How do you call your loverboy?

Dustin: C’mere, Loverboy!

TK: And if he doesn’t answer?

Dustin: Oh, Loverboy…?

TK: And if he still doesn’t answer?

Dustin: I simply say… Baaaaby, oooh baby. My sweet Baaaaby… you’re the one.

TK: But what if he still doesn’t — ?

Dustin: THEN I GUESS HE’S JUST NOT INTERESTED!!! GOD!!!— Sofía

(The best part of this image is Dustin in a midriff-baring blouse. Or is it TK in tight pants? Thanks for that Sofía. Now onto number one…)

1. “I am not a breeder, but I named my extremely co-dependent cat Oedi-puss.” —Dagon

———

What can I say; I’m a sucker for puns and Greek tragedies. And…pussies? No, I’m allergic to cats. And vagina. I had a professor in college whose teaching philosophy was reading the works of Homer and Sophocles OUT LOUD for 58 minutes. No discussions. No analysis. Just reading to us like we were grade schoolers and The Iliad was Ramona the Pest. The course was called Julie Quietly Loses Her Shit As Her Ass Loses All Feeling And Hmm I Wonder What The Minimum Sentence Is For Murdering A Nun I Don’t Care It’s Totally Worth It 101.

Yay, I get to award a T-shirt! Congratulations Dagon, for your creative pet naming you receive the Pajiba gear of your choosing. Send your address, a can of Fancy Feast, and a detailed account of your mommy issues to Dustin at Pajiba dot com.

Thanks for putting up with me, my beloved online family. Your master returns next week.

My Boobs/Nicole’s Boobs 2012!

May the wings of liberty never lose a feather, and may our mammaries evade the perils of gravity.

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I'm Going to Descend Below Verbal Soon and Just Start Driving Around Breaking Windows.

The Top 10 Comments of the Week / Julie

Eloquent Eloquence | November 6, 2008 | Comments ()




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