The Expendables

I love shit.

I love to stir it.



I am a shit stirrer.

So yesterday, while working super hard at my office (and***coughtweetingcough***), I stumbled upon this HUGE, absolutely vile smelling pile of shit that is Lainey Gossip's blog. 

WARNING, do not click on this link unless you want to land your bare nekkid feet in a massive steaming mountain of putrid excrement and feel it squish between your toes.

You clicked on the link, didn't you? You're fucking incorrigible.

Fine, but don't blame me that there isn't enough brain bleach in the world to clean those Breaking Dawn Spoilers out of your head. 

Well, as long as the pile of shit is just sitting there, and you've managed to step in it despite my warning, I might as well stir.

Because that's what I do.

I stir shit.

WARNING: I am going to expand upon and invite discussion on Lainey's supposed script spoilers. If you're trying to keep your BD twymen intact, leave NOW. Go. Shoo. GTFO.

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You're still here? Well, ok then.

Commence shit stirring.

I don't normally read Lainey's blog because I'd rather spend my nine hours a day in front of the computer working very hard at my job, being a dilligent, dedicated employee and making myself indispensable in the workplace.

Well, that and the occasional tweeting, blogging, reading fanfic, surfing Tumblr, online shopping and social networking.

But yesterday, someone dangled the sparkle peen in front of my face and I did what any self-repsecting h00r would do. I chomped. And I'm not sorry.

First, it was interesting to learn that Lainey hated the book Breaking Dawn as much as I did. Stephenie Meyer should have named this book Freaking Yawn. Aside from the honeymoon and the 12 or so pages of vampire sex in the cottage, IT. WAS. BORING. I forced myself to keep reading in hopes that Edward would crush Jake's larynx with a smile on his face and say something like :

"I've been waiting four fucking books to do that, you pedophilic pussy."

I plowed through the second half of Stephenie's word vomit, literally praying that there'd be a vicious, venomy battle where Edward would exact his revenge on Felix for the Volturi chamber beat down, and  Bella would torture Jane by yanking out that fucking ridiculous bun hair by hair.

And until the final page, I held out hope that Bella would sprout a pair of testicles and tell Edward to cheer the fuck up or she'd suck the joy out of him through his Penis De Milo. And that he'd take her up on it.

Wow...that's ummmm.....disappointing.

As you all know, none of that happened. What we got instead was the vampire equivalent of the final courtroom scene in A Few Good Men. Lots of political posturing, mental manipulation, shouting and in the end, nobody really won. Only ONE vampire dies, and no one actually gave two shits about her anyway. Irina who?!?

The penalty for being a tattletale in the vampire world is death, apparently.

So when Lainey said in her blog:

 "VAMPIRE SEX ...they start mashing up against each other without restraint. Especially him. So there are a lot of accelerated motion quick cuts – him on top, then her on top, the camera’s speeding around them, they’re speeding around each other, like porn on 30x"

I died a thousand fucking blissful, euphoric deaths.

Please, God (Bill Condon), I beg you....let this be true. PLEASE!

And this:

"I’m told there will be a battle. You will “see” a battle. A vicious battle. And ...Some Cullens die. Wolves too. It’s total carnage."

I love carnage. Carnage is my friend. But wait one fucking minute. Cullens will die?!? Which Cullens?
I love the Cullens! And Wolves?

Well...I'll have to be honest and admit that both Jared and Embry have "expendable" stamped on their foreheads. They were marked for death from the day Condon got his hands on that script. Yep...in my mind, those two chicken-chomping, muffin-sucking hairballs are already dead and buried.

Sorry, boys. Aro's bustin' a cap in yo' asses.

But which Cullens are expendable?!?

It took me exactly 1.77245 seconds to figure out which Cullen falls victim to Condon's red pen of death. In fact, to me, it was ridiculously obvious. C'mon...you're thinking the same thing.

You know you are.

Tits to the tile ladies...you have to know it's gonna be:

KAPOW!!!

And if you really think about it, Emmett too. Because what would the ending be without a few tears?

So...what do YOU think? I'm very interested to hear your thoughts and theories. If it goes down like this, what kind of uproar will occur in the batshit crazy fandom? Protests on the steps of Summit HQ? Rioting in the streets of LA at the BD 2 premiere?

***Pulls spoon out of shit pot and stands back to watch the chaos unfold...***

GO. And don't hold back!

FFFFOOORRRKKSSS Fuckery at it's Finest!

R to L: Standing: Myg, JJ, Me, LKW, VitR & Snarky. Kneeling: CCC & TM.

Holy Amazeballs batman - Who the hell are these certifiable h00rs?!?

Can you even believe that bucket full of crazyy?!?
Well, I can't either!

I just keep repeating to myself,
"I actually met Jenny Jerkface."
"I said hello to LatchkeyWife."
"I hugged SnarkierThanYou. HARD."
"I loved Myg with all my heart."
"I motorboated VitaminR70's bewbs."
 I really, really did all that.
What a fuckin' lucky bitch I am!"

What kind of VagSlice would I be if I didn't share parts of my adventure with all of you? So of course, I bring you not one, not two, but three new Cougar's Den Episodes!

Episode #40 was shot in the Hoh Forest just outside Forks. 

Hoes Mama Cougar, CullenClanCrazy and TatooMickey all up in the Hoh babyyyyyy!

Episode #41 takes place on Second Beach at LaPush after newly anointed Cougars CullenClanCrazy, TatooMickey and I drank a bottle of Vampire Cabernet on the beach. (***CoughAndMaybeaBottleofWhiteZinCough***)

(Sorry about the rough audio...turn your speakers WAY up - it was windy & shit.)

This third vid is a "quickie" - shot as Mama & TatooMickey, in a moment of true Twitardedness, underestimate the incoming tide and take an unplanned plunge in the Pacific, thereby ruining Mama's cell phone and drenching us both so thoroughly that we had to ride back to Forks in our skivies. Unfortch, Charlie didn't pull us over, because we were totally ready to do nasty stuffs to the Police Chief.

Chief Swan, we've been very bad. We may or may not have committed a felony. I think we might need a cavity search. By the way Chief, we're huge fans of your womb broom. Pornstache FOREVA.

For an album full of more ridiculous still pics, CLICK HERE.

More to come (gigglesnicker - I said "come") as soon as I recover from what was truly a life-altering experience.

MC

Twiporn Tweeting

I got an e-mail the other day, from a friend of my oldest daughter who works at the "Family Video". Think a moment about that franchise name and then as you continue to read, let the irony wash over you.

The email said:

Dear Mama, (all the kids call me Mama)

I was sorting in the "back room" yesterday and you'll never guess what I found. Did you know there is a TWILIGHT PORN MOVIE?!?!? Have you seen it? If not, I could bring it to your house and we could drink and watch it. Let me know.

Love,

B

Well, as it happens "B", thanks to my lovers at Twitarded and my soul sistah 17ForeverLisa, I was acutely aware of the existence of said porn movie, but no, I've never seen it.

I just......can't.

Just.......no.

 Can't. Dew. It.

"Hey, Fast Eddie, didn't you say you had two brothers? 'Cause I don't have a hole in my chest, but I do have three other orifices just waiting to be filled."

Before you start to imagine me all stuffy and prudish, let me remind you that I used to make my Barbies perform oral on each other as outlined in this previous perverted post. I've seen plenty of porn in my day.

I'm sleazy, lewd and a completely depraved.

Hell, I regularly visit the website for the Tantra Chair because I'm fascinated by the erotic demo videos.

Well....go ahead. You can click the link. I'll still be here when you wake up get back, h00rs.

But the very thought of anyone else pretending to be a manwhore Edward, fucking a Bella with a meat curtains the size of Montana makes me wanna smother kittens. I just can't go there. There's something sacreligious about it...in my warped, deviant mind.

Rob is my only Edward and Kristen is my only Bella.

End of story.

What's a porn lover to do?

EUREKA!

Let's turn the real Twilight movie into porn!

Because in my ill, twisted grey matter, Robward and Krisella can be as hardcore horny and kinky as my mind will let them, as long as they're still my Edward and Bella.

So, in that vein, I bring you my apparently popular (based on the amount of times they were retweeted and the 50 followers I picked up) TwiPorn Tweets!

B - I know what I saw."

E - "And what exactly was that?"

B - "Your massive meat rocket stopped the van. You pushed it away with your rod."

 

B - "Are you gonna tell me how you stopped the van?"

E- "Yeah. I had an erection. It's very common. You can fondle it."

B - "I've considered penis pumps, and Viagra."

E - "What if it's not a boner? What if I'm the limp guy?"

B - "You're not. I can see what you're trying to jerk off. It's a dick."

E - "I feel....very....erect for you."

B - "So you swallowed me?"

E - "I don't have the strength....to stay out of you anymore."

B - "I know what you are."

E - "Say it. OUT LOUD."

B - "Porn star."

E - "Are you afraid?"

B - "No. Where are we going?"

E - "Up the poon tang, into the stank tank. You need to feel what I can do in your behind!"

E - "And so the Lion fell in Love with the Lamb."

B - "What a horny lamb!"

E -  "What a sadomasochistic lion."

B - "About three things, I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was hung. Second, I didn't know how dominant he wanted to be. And third, my anus was unconditionally, and irrevocably shredded by him."

E  - "I don't want to have a monster cock. I mean, it's like I can't fully satisfy you."

B - "Come to visit or fuck?"

Billy - "Actually, we just came to visit your flat chest. First pole dance of the season. Jacob here wanted to see it."

E - "What did you expect? Cock rings and floggers and ropes?"

 B - "Not the ropes."

E - "Not the ropes."

E - "Yeah, this is my room."

B - "No porn?"

E - "No, I,...I don't wank."

B - "Ever?"

E - "No, not at all."

E - "You'd better be tight, spunk monkey."

E - "How did you get in here?"

B - "I came on your window."

E - "Do you....do that a lot?"

B - "I like to watch you queef. It's kinda fascinating to me."

There's so much more where this came from. (No pun intended.)

Just think - I haven't even explored the porn possibilities in New Moon or Eclipse!

Come on....I know you VagSlices are just as corrupted as I am. Get creative and share your favorite TwiPorn lines with me in the comments.

PS. FFFFFFFFFOOOOOOOORRRRRRKKKKKKKS!



Ode to Mr. Marshmallow

In November 2009, somewhere on a quiet airport tarmac in Paris, Kristen Stewart clutches Robert Pattinson's hand before boarding an airplane. Rob smiles.The Twitter whale was nearly speared and the internet imploded as the hearts of delusional  hopeful women around the world were shattered.

Let's give 'em something to talk about.

For the next nine months, the pair are hounded by the paparazzi. Despite Rob's desperate pleas and Kristen's attempts to blind them with the lasers she can apparently shoot from her middle fingers, the little picture-snapping parasites were relentless in their pursuit of THE photo. That photo. THE ONE that would bring the Twifandom to it's knees in either elation or despair, depending on your "Robsten/Nonsten" status.

And finally, in August 2010 on a street in Montreal, one of the heinous little bottom feeders finally captured the money shot.

Fuck it. I haven't seen you for two weeks and I WANT that mouth.

You had me at "fuck it".

Meanwhile, on a Holland America cruise ship bound for Alaska, occupied by approximately 1300 geriatric patients fresh out of hip replacement rehab and 500 batshit crazy Twilight Fans, Michael Welch is spotted canoodling repeatedly with a girl I can only describe as cuter than a newborn baby's bottom, and nobody...and I do mean, not ONE single person gives a flying fuck.

What? No love for Mr. Marshmallow? No illicit photos sold to the highest gossip site bidder?

Jesus Mama, what's with the huge rack?

I put the good bra on for you Mike.

SOLID.

Mike will be the first to admit that he lives in the deep dark shadow cast by the behemoth star power of Robert Pattinson. He even mentioned at our Q and A that he'd seen comments on videos and pictures of himself that stated, "He's handsome....just not swoonworthy."

Well Mike darlin', I beg to differ. I saw your sweet lil' buns in those dark wash jeans while you were chatting up the concierge at the hotel, and I'll be damned if I didn't choke on my Starbucks. Then, you turned around and smiled with those piercing blue eyes and I thought, "Bella, your prom night had serious hidden potential and you blew it. Newton totally would have popped your cherry and it would have been GOOD."

Mr. Welch, you have been agrediously underestimated.

Not "swoonworthy"? Are you girls fucking blind?!?

In all seriousness, I want you all to know that Micheal Welch is a true gentleman, and a real, genuine nice guy. He was brave enough to agree to be trapped on a cruise ship with rabid (occasionally emabrassingly immature) Twihards and he pulled it off with a grace and dignity that I'm not sure many men could muster.

His ridiculously sweet girlfriend tolerated a week of women staring, screaming, and ogling at her man. She was remarkably patient with those trying to monopolize her boy's time and attention. Did I mention she was adorable?

Plus - the dude has a healthy sense of humor. He knows he's riding a massive tidal wave that may never roll in again, and damnit if he doesn't plan to shred that wave all the way to the shore. He's not afraid to laugh at himself. He's self aware enough to know that if his acting career falls flat, he has a future as an '80's Karaoke performer.

Bohemain RIPsody

Every Twilight actor has a "signature move". Rob's is the sex-walk-paired-with-fuck-me-stare. Taylor's is the dazzling-smile-shirtless-ab-flex. Kristen's is the blinky-lip-bite.

Mike's is the "Bow-Chica-Wow-Wow" dance. It's genius, really. No special training or tree required.

Before I close, I just want to share a few more adorable "Mike" moments that have turned me into a lifelong Welch fan.

*  While playing a serious, Forest-Gump style round of ping-pong with his girl on the deck of the ship, an obviously starstruck teenage boy asked if he could play and Mike shook his hand, introduced himself and said "let's do this". What followed was one seriously badass game of ping-pong that had Mike dripping with sweat. I didn't ogle. I swear.

*  He very dutifully signed the absurdly silly t-shirt I brought along. He concentrated on his very best cursive handwriting, despite the fact that the fucktard behind me actually asked him if he'd be willing to sign her boob. I really, really wish I was kidding. Bitch is lucky I wasn't close to anything sharp or I may have ended up in the ship's brig or walking the plank, clutching said boob.

*  On our departure day, SeaTac airport was an asylum. Papa, Lil' Cougar and I wandered around for 30 minutes looking for a table to crash at so we could eat, and who did we stumble upon but Mike and his sweet pea girl as they were absorbed in one another, whisper-giggling. He leaned in and kissed her temple. I suppressed the "awwwww" threatening to escape my lips, when they looked up and recognized as as fellow Twi-Cruisers. Fighting what must have been an overwhelming urge to haul ass out of there, instead, they said "You can have our table...we're headed to our gate." We helped them clear the garbage, Mike thanked us and smiled, and we wished them a safe trip home. A normal exchange with a normal guy who just happens to have appeared in three of the biggest grossing films in the past two years.

Lil' Cougar and I give you a run-down of the Twilight Fans Cruise

.

Will we do this again? I don't know. The next Twilight Fans Cruise is scheduled in June 2011 and is a 10-Day Mediterranean jaunt that departs from Rome and features a post-cruise land excursion to Volterra AND Montepulciano.

I have two kids in college and one still at home.
And a mortgage.
And car payments.
And an impending pilgrimage to FFFFFOOORRRKKKSSS.

It's not looking likely, unless I hit a jackpot of some sort or win an out of court settlement in my current "emotional distress" lawsuit against my RV dealer.

So Mike, if you go on this one, I'll miss you. But don't worry, I'm a Welchaholic now. I'll even go see your creepy-ass new movie.

Deal?

Deal, Mr. Marshmallow. 

My very first fORksGY!

I am a fan of The Twilight Saga. I've read the books (4 times), seen the movies (10, 10 & 6 times), immersed myself in the fanfic. I have dogs named Riley & Bella and an entire room of my home dedicated to the glory that is Edward Cullen.

I've thrown DvD Release parties, made You Tube videos, and started this blog. It's a safe bet that the Batshit Crazy Train rolled through my life, and I hopped on, got comfy and ordered drinks from the club car. It was all nice and safe until....

Before I knew it, the train's conductors,

Snarkier Than You

and

Jenny Jerkface

blew the whistle and shouted

"AAAALLLLL ABOARD TWATWAFFLES!!!"

And it was decision time.

Shit, or get off the pot. Take a leap of faith. Run with the big dogs or tuck balls and sit on the porch. Haul ass off the train or buckle up for the ride.

So, when my bloggy besties VitaminR70 & 17ForeverLisa started a campaign to keep me on the train, it took about 1.77245 seconds for me to decide that like Bella, I simply had to go.

Where's the final destination, you ask?

FFFOOOOOORRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKS!

I am going to Forks. I am going to Freaking Forks. I am going to Forks, Washington. THE Forks, Washington.

I am making a pilgrimage to the MarthaFarking Promised Land.

Me, and 70 or so of the craziest TwiTard faithfuls in the known universe.

From September 30th to October 3rd, 2010, Forks, Washington will host a Twi-Revival the likes of which has never before been witnessed.

We will sing Jimmy Buffet hymns.

We will pray that we don't get arrested.

We will cleanse ourselves of sin in the hot tub baptismal font.

We will drink tequila wine from the communal cup.

We will worship the procelain Gods. 

We will learn the Twilight Ten Commandments.

Some of us might even be inspired to swap speak in tongues.

My heart is open wide.

My soul is eager for enlightenment.

My spirit is ready to soar.  

My liver is ready to filter.

IT'S ON BITCHES!!!!!

MC

Breaking News! Breaking Dawn. Broken Up. Really?

Unless you're rotting somewhere in a Turkish prison, you've no doubt heard the "official" announcement from Summit that the fourth installment in the Twilight Saga, Breaking Dawn, will be divided into two movies. Lots of other details are still being speculated....2-D or 3-D, PG-13 or R, yada fucking yada, yada.

Frankly, for me, the discussion is irrelevant. I will see both movies on premiere night, regardless of rating or whether Rob's hands appear flat or seem to reach out & grope my bewbs. And as history has shown, I will initially be so smitten that I won't see the inherent, unavoidable flaws and I'll rave for days about how awesome it was.

The honeymoon will be over after my 10th in-theatre viewing. I'll find little nit-picky shit I don't like, but I'll conclude that it doesn't matter at all because for fuck's sake, they are in the movie and they finally DO IT. I've been waiting since December 2008 for these kids to hook up. You could chain my double D's to an atomic bomb, but I'll still go to the theatre to see this gloriousness, as many times as my schedule will allow for.

That's the depth of my addiction.

"I'm totes looking down your dress."

"Yeah, I know."

Still, I wonder, how will there be enough content for two, full-length movies? Yes, Breaking Dawn the book was very long, but just about the easiest of the four to cut unnecessary content from. Here, let me help you by providing a synopsis, Mama Cougar Cliff's Notes style:

-Bella & Edward get married. Jacob "The Situation" Black is devastated, and the only person who cares is Leah because she's a wolf-woman scorned whose Xanax prescription has expired.

-Edward takes Bella to an island honeymoon and pops her ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb.

-Having finally experienced the Glittergun first hand, Bella becomes a raging nympho. Begging, pillow biting, furniture destruction, and the shredding of sexy La Perla lingerie ensues. 

-Natch, the lame ribbed Trojans they brought along were no match for Edward's gargantuan, granite, prism peen. Bells gets preggers. 

-Edward goes all self-flagellating rageball & wants Carlisle to Hoover the vampbryo. Bella refuses and hires Rosalie to her guard her uterus. Alice books them all an appearance on Jerry Springer, and then skips Forks to bone some dude she met at the Rainforest Cafe.

-Bella gives birth to a bi-species baby and exsanguinates all over Carlisle & Esme's cream-colored shag carpet. Again. Edward noms on her and saves her life with his vampdrool. The ugly duckling becomes a swan. Millions die of metaphor overdose.

"Permanent semi, Edward? That's quite the irony."

-Jake dies inside and we all laugh sadistically at his pain. Tortured, he isolates himself and becomes a pedophile. Everyone knows, but seems to enable him. A follow-up Jerry Springer episode is booked.

-Law & Order, Special Vamp Unit is called in because Baby Renesmasupercalifragalisticexpialadocious is somehow a threat to inhumanity with her rapidly growing hair & weird face-stroking fetish.

-The Cullens and the Quileutes merge into one tribe called the Cullutes & get orange buffs. (Or was that the Quillens? Whatev.) Nobody is voted out at Tribal Council because Bella found the hidden immunity idol in her own brain.

-I fell asleep during this part but I think Dr. Phil showed up with Alice & talked everyone down from the meadow by reminding them that when they "choose the behavior, they choose the consequence".

-SVU tucked tail & slunk back to the precinct in Italy, Jake joined the Priesthood, and Edward & Bella dumped the kid with the g'rents so they could fuck like jackrabbits for a couple of weeks & let off steam.

"Bella, baby?" "Yes?" "There's a playroom in the basement." "I'll get the checkbook."

-Edward & Bella lived happily ever after in Snow White's cottage that they purchased after it went into foreclosure because the dwarfs all had to go to court-ordered rehab.

That's about it, right? Can that really be two movies?!?

The Eclipsalypse Cometh

Holy Mary, Mother of Cyberspace, last Friday was a shit storm on the good ole' interwebz!! My twitter feed was constipated dominated all damn day by Twihards either excited beyond belief, or wicked disappointed in the "final" Eclipse trailer which premiered on The Oprah Show.

Wait.....whadda fuck?!? The Oprah Show?!?

Well...that's certainly a "cutting edge" decision from the genius folks in Summit's marketing department. And by cutting edge I mean so catastrophically stupid and devoid of common sense it's mind boggling to those of us with even a sub-par IQ. What the hell is in the water at Summit's corporate headquarters that causes what I assume are relatively intelligent human beings to make such epically idiotic marketing decisions?

I imagine the board room convo went something like this:

Marketing Genius #1: "Well, the New Moon trailer premiered on the MTV Video Awards. We shot pure Twi-adrenaline right into the arms of our target audience, whipping the fandom into a frenzied tidal wave that we rode straight through to opening weekend. As a result, the movie broke box office records and went on to earn eleventy-gaziilion dollars for the studio."

Marketing Genius #2: "Fuckity-fuck, we can't have that happening again, our actors might get huge egos and demand decent salaries! Let's try something new. Let's scare the shit out of the fandom by firing the editor while we're balls-deep in post production, and then start rumors that we don't like Slade's cut of the movie, and we need last-minute reshoots. Then, we'll threaten to hire Hardwicke to do them."

Pimply-Faced Intern: "But Sir, that's all true."

Marketing Genius #2: "SHUT IT you little pisstard - and refill my Jack & Diet Coke. Then, let's put together a trailer that has zero of our core story, angle it to attract men to see the movie by stuffing it full of action & CGI, and then premiere it on a show that airs during the day and to a demographic of almost exclusively women ages 25-60, therefore COMPLETELY missing our target market!"

Marketing Genius #1: That's absolutely brilliant. We are officially smarter than God. Do you think we'll get a raise?

Marketing Genius #2: Does Kristen Stewart smoke weed?!?

___________________

Okay, before you all crucify me, let me just say that I do love Oprah, and I didn't hate the trailer. I just wasn't blown away by it. And damnit, considering all the hype and secrecy surrounding the making of Eclipse, I wanted so fucking much to be shocked & awed. I was shocked, but not awed.

Here's my reaction vid from the YouTube Channel:

Natch, my hubby, being a testosterone-based life form, thought the trailer was "badass" and now he's more excited for 6/30 than I am. Apparently, Alice going all "Matrix & shit" is hot. Whatever.

As for me, I just wanted more of Edward and Jacob in a pissing match over Bella (cough*tentscene*cough), and more of deliciously horny Edward almost losing his shit and straight-up impaling Bella in his bedroom (ahem*leg-hitch*ahem) on that coppery-silk bedding which I am in LOVE with and of course, can't find anywhere.

Hence, my preference for the new "mash-up" trailer which makes me feel oh, so much better:

Oh, and let me just ring in on the ring.

I've heard many people say it's hideous and they hate it, yet it fits Steph Meyer's description from Eclipse, nearly exactly. You can't bitch that you want absolute, by-the-book authenticity and then whine like Jessica's New Moon zombie rant when you get what you asked for. Besides, something tells me that Kristen saw that ring and said "Hot Damn...that's so fucking ugly that I want it."

Hell, don't tell me that if Edward tried to slip that puppy on your finger you'd balk. The boy could offer me a plastic spider ring from a gumball machine at Wal-Mart and as long as it meant I was getting laid on Isle Esme, I'd be grinnin' like a cat shitting razor blades.

Just sayin'.