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What Did Tony Danza Ever Do To You?!

By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | January 24, 2011 |

By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | January 24, 2011 |

Pajibans! Friends! Countrymen (and women)! I return to you now, at the turn of the tide! Once more onto the breach!

HI GUYS. I confess: I’ve missed you rowdy bunch of malcontents. I know, this probably means everyone should question my sanity, but what the hell. I like to live dangerously.

So! New Year and everything! I’d like to start off by giving my greatest and most sincere thanks to the awesome Pinky McLadybits, who held down the fort most admirably while I was gone. Three weeks, she did it! I have a hard time trying to convince anyone to do it once, and most never want to come back! So, all the kudos and hot mens for you, Pinky.

I’m also happy to report that you guys have started the year off with a bang. Thanks to a bunch of fantastic new writers and columns, plus a true barrage of increasingly-more-Random Lists, I haven’t (yet) regretted getting back into it. This week, for instance, was full of the snarky hate that is, to me, like the bread of life. There was Cindy’s Comment Diversion where all our bizarre food nitpicks came out. That one was fun, and some of you are just weird. Courtney’s “Why We Hate” column proved to be outrageously popular, because one thing we here know how to do, is to express our irrational hatred for random things in pop culture. I enjoyed the hell out of that one, because frankly, we hate a lot of people, and sometimes it’s just cathartic to get it all out. And sometimes that’s just plain funny. We don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone, dammit. Most dislikes were pretty rational, even—except for that one guy who hated Tony Danza. WHAT DID TONY DANZA EVER DO TO YOU, PERSON?! TONY DANZA! He just entertains! Ugh, release all that hatred from your heart!

Not really though, because what the hell would I have to read otherwise? In fact, the more horrible things get thrown at Ashton Kutcher (KICK TO THE GROIN), the happier I’ll be.

So I look forward to another Pajibayear. This week, we get Oscar nominations. I, for one, just want Natalie Portman to win it so she’ll get the hell out of my face already. I don’t hate her, but I’m getting awfully close to it. Just make sure you gear up on all your anger for that, because I’ll be reading.

Excuse that overly long intro, I just missed rambling about nothing to you guys. Even if no one reads it, I will. Hmm. Might have to rethink that motto.

Here’s your list, my ugly babies!

10. I’m throwing up a little on my keyboard as I type, but I bet some of the names being thrown around for the “new” Lethal Weapon rhyme with gnarly peen and annual klaxon. Cause one of ‘em needs money to pay for his darn hos and the other has become a ho himself (reptiles on a mother-effin what now?)

[I shall from now on refer to the coke-and-whore fiend as Gnarly Peen.]
9. I would murder every one of you for one night alone with Eva Green.

Please don’t misunderstand; I love you guys. But that wouldn’t stop me for a moment from drowning you in acid if Eva Green would let me touch her. I would peel the skin from your muscle and sinew with a rusty spoon for the simple pleasure of smelling her perfume. I would rip the skulls out of your faces and play them like Ewok drums for a quiet evening in her presence. I would maim, dismember and destroy you with jubilant glee in return for a pleasant five-minute phone call. That’s how little you mean to me.

But I love you.

Except for YOU Yossarian. Fucking literary characters smarting up the place all the damn time. GO BACK TO YOUR FICTIONAL WORLD, SIR! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!


[Well, GEEZ. She looks kind of like a corpse to me, but FINE. But leave Yo-Yo alone!]

8. When was the last winner of American Idol who became a star? Six seasons ago. Carrie Underwood. And that’s a country music star who isn’t afraid to fill her albums with songs about Jesus, so it only half counts. For total domination, the only true winner is Kelly Clarkson.

Carrie Underwood has MASSIVELY expanded her repertoire. She now also sings about Mama and Drinking.

[I can’t wait for her next single: “Jesus Help Mama Stop Drinkin’” and “Jesus, Be My Mama’s Wingman at the Bar”.]

[So, um, did you guys know there’s gonna be a movie about a Tire? Yeah, me either. The things Pajiba teaches you. Invaluable. But wait! Someone has something to say about it: ]

7. You know, growing up in Detroit, people always told me, “Tire, you gotta give up on yo crazy dreams. Yo a tire from Detroit, yo never goin’ nowhere. ‘cept wherever yo go whens yo onna car. Thas yo future, man.”

But did I pay them mind? No. No, I fucking pursued my dreams, man. I fucking did it. 18 I packed up my shit and my tire iron and my 5 lug nuts and I took my ass to L.A.

Them years was rough. In and outta auditions with nuthin to show for it but some worn-off tread and a busted axle. One bastard even suggested I should strip off my hub caps. I took jobs with car rental joints as a spare tire makin’ less than minimum wage justa get by.

And now, now that I got my big break yo just wanna shit all over it? Well yo get ovah yoself, the whole lotta ya. I earned this movie, you muthafuckers. Yo not gonna take that away from me.

[Another valuable lesson: What “knackers” means in the UK. Fascinating]

6. Knackers = testicles (not pants), which makes more sense in the context of cutting them off, spray painting them gold and using them as baubles, as suggested.

I would strongly advise against asking a bloke where he got his lovely knackers.

…Unless, of course, you’re absolutely starving for a supper of meat and two veg.
-Quiet Wyatt<


I used to make a mishmashed Snuggie abortion out of an old robe and a threadbare blanket to pretend I was one of those wingy bat people that wrapped their wingy arms around unsuspecting folks and gargled them up with digestive juices and then opened their arms and let all the bones come jangling down over the stumpy feet leftovers!


I’d do it by myself too. Just me and my lame-ass bathrobe. Swooping up behind my sister’s Cabbage Patch Kids and gargling them up with my digestive juices*

This opens the door as to why I drank the pain away throughout most of my adult life.

Beast Master Bat-People…


(*usually gum-spit)

[Skitz is a National Institution. As is “Beastmaster”.]

[Speaking of the Tire and Learning New Things:]

4. . Why is everyone losing their undies over a movie about a tire?

No Ratnerfucking, no Baynis, no Lucaslutting, no Dirty Spielberging, no Haggisraping, no Rainbow Killing, No Four Fingered Kutchering, no Sweaty Back-door Aniston, no Reverse Robertsing, no Stephanie Meyers Steamer, no Burton Ballsacking, no Cuntsicle Cameron, no Disney Deep Dicking, no Pirate Depp Dysentery Double Penetration…

Need I go on?

I don’t know, admin. The tire is black. Are you sure there won’t be any Perry Piledriving?


3. There’s something cryptic about that clapboard pig-faced dimwit humping a cupboard.

“Yes. You are very good. You are made of wood like me.”

“Oh, baby, it is quite good. Enjoying this. Generic grunt directed towards applicable diety.”

And then they gave birth to a healthy, 9 pound white spruce.

[Quoting the article referenced in this week’s Pajiba Dirty Talk ]

2. “Moreover, the human female has evolved the cognitive and intellectual capacity to employ cosmetics, perfumes, colorful clothing, push up bras, high heels, and so on, which draw attention to her breasts and derriere, and which emphasize and exaggerate her sexual availability by mimicking the signs of estrus common in other social primates (Joseph 2000a,b).”

This is simply magnificent stuff. The first pseudo-intellectual article I’ve ever read which includes the phrase “potpourri of pussy.”

[I think I’ve found the new name for my All-Girl Band!]

[Our #1 this week is a tasty delight made up of several things any good Pajiban will love: Pop Culture Puns, Terrible News Stories, plus Cake, Death, and Eddie Izzard:]

1. Some Philly guy shot his friend…in the chest…OVER A PIECE OF CAKE.

Dearest Link Wench,

The friend clearly chose death.

The Church of England

And BRANDED. We all obviously love branded, and this week more, for he has won.

In case you’re a poor, sad person and you don’t get the reference, do yourself a favor and watch this video: . Specifically, the bit around 4:50, though you should really watch the whole thing if you want to be a better person. There you go. You’re now educated— YOU’RE WELCOME. Mmm I love the smell of passive-aggressive condescension.

So! That’s it for this week, hope you got some thrills. Keep reading Dustin and Seth’s Sundance reviews and bring all your outrage and funny to this glorious Oscar season.

Figgy is a displaced Honduran living in Dallas, TX. She is not Mexican, and chooses Cake.. You can read more of her ramblings at her blog or follow her on twitter.

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