Sarah Silverman: The Next Jenny McCarthy

So, I finally got around to seeing Sarah Silverman’s pile of garbage Jesus is Magic. I actually had high hopes for this film. Now, I enjoy filth. I enjoy edgy, brutal humor. However, I enjoy edgy, brutal humor that has substance behind it. I’d say that Sarah Silverman’s retarded material is about as sharp and wry as 72 minutes of “Dead Baby” jokes.

Here’s Sarah Silverman’s formula:

1.) Choose a “taboo” topic (nothing is taboo anymore, so this isn’t effective) like the Holocaust, AIDS, Rape, Niggers, Chinks, 9/11, Porno, Blowjobs, Martin Luther King, Religion, etc.

2.) Insert one or more of these taboo topics into a poorly structured joke that says nothing about our society

3.) Stumble around and desperately try to make it to the “shocker” taboo punchline to save yourself from 100% embarrassment.

4.) Act cute and oblivious. Pretend the “shocker” isn’t shocking.

5.) Look cute and uninformed as you enjoy the audience’s howling laughter and patronage.

Now, many critics have hailed Silverman as the next Lenny Bruce or George Carlin.

God . . . is everyone STUPID? Yes, they are. Therefore, I must do my part to extinguish the critics’ nonsensical cash-driven banter and put an end to this moronic shit once and for all.

Okay, here we go.

Yes, Lenny Bruce was “controversial.” Yes, George Carlin is raunchy. But you see, the main difference between these two comedians and Silverman is that they are men and Sarah Silverman is just a stupid fucking woman. And everyone knows . . . pussies can’t be funny.

Ah-ha!

Did you catch that? Re-read the previous paragraph . . . that paragraph is a prime example of one of Sarah Silverman’s HILARIOUS setups and executions. You think she’s going somewhere smart, then she throws in some baseless, “shocking” sexist/racist/gross comment that MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING and the joke ends in weak stupidity.

Her entire routine consists of her telling “underground” dirty jokes on stage. And it fools the idiots because her raunchy behavior contrasts her “cute look.” She also throws in perpetual facial contortions that could come across as “attractive” in a weird sort of way. Do you know who this reminds me of?

Jenny McCarthy.

That’s what Sarah Silverman is: an extreme Jenny McCarthy. It’s a comic formula that works every time. Pair up crude and cute and you’re a winner with the bouregois.

Now, as I was saying. Lenny Bruce was controversial. George Carlin is raunchy. Yet their material actually says something about our society. Their material makes social and political criticisms that are well-thought out, justified, and in most cases, true. Bruce and Carlin want(ed) to change our society for the better. Yes, they both incorporated raunchy executions into their material, but THEY ALWAYS MADE A VALID POINT.

In contrast, here’s some of Silverman’s witty one-liners:

“When God gives you AIDS, make LemonAIDS.”

“I was licking jelly off of my boyfriend’s penis and all of a sudden I was like, ‘Oh my God, I’m turning into my mother.’”

“This Mexican lady came up to me and said, ‘I don’t stink.’ Well, I had to explain to her that you can’t really smell yourself.”

And this mindless sort of humor doesn’t change throughout Silverman’s entire routine. It just keeps going and going – no point, no revelations – just the same old schtick: “I’m a cute Jewish girl who has a naughty mouth, isn’t that funny? Pay me! Love me! Praise Me!”

On the other hand, if you haven’t already, listen to George Carlin’s “Ten Commandments” bit or Lenny Bruce’s “Dirty Toilet” bit which are both convincing, well-thought out pieces that comment and criticize human behavior. Because their upsetting commentaries are most likely true, their material is considered controversial.

In addition to Silverman’s total lack of insight and mindless spouting of key “funny terms” (rape, nigger, AIDS, etc), she also incorporates several ass-horrible musical numbers in her movie. These short musical numbers give Silverman an excuse to dress up in sexy outfits and flaunt her mediocre breasts and singing ability. In turn, Silverman’s musical numbers also reveal her inability to produce content that is even slightly original, entertaining, or significant in any way.

Even though Silverman is merely an embarrassingly poor rehash of her predecessors, this film is going to boost her career. I love audiences – they’ll devour anything you put on their plate.

Willy Takes on NASA

Pasadena, CA – A man known only as “Willy” was arrested yesterday morning for hurling empty Colt 45 cans at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, CA. A branch of NASA, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory recently celebrated the return of its spacedust-gathering spacecraft, the aptly named Stardust.

As police hauled Willy away from the area, he shouted that the Stardust program “stole [his] muthafuckin’ money.”

In a later interview at the Pasadena Police Headquarters, Willy disclosed his reasons for physically attacking the NASA facility.

“Do you know how much goddamn money those bastards shit-away by putting that dust-collector up into space,” questions Willy. “$212 million fucking dollars . . . that’s how much . . . I made $84 shoveling cow shit for two days . . . after taxes I only got $62 – how’s a muthafucka s’posed t’eat with all this goddamn space dust that needs collecting?”

Apparently, Willy feels the government-funded space program has become a priority when other world issues are clearly more important.

“Do you know how many hotdogs I could get for $212 million,” questions Willy. “A shitload.”

According to Peggy Kirkpatrick, Executive Director of the Central Missouri Food Bank, $212 million could go a long way in fighting poverty.

“That $212 million could feed 4.2 million people for a solid year,” says Kirkpatrick. “Oddly enough, about 4 million die each year from starvation . . . .”

Despite Willy’s charges of wastefulness, NASA official Carlton Allen defends the space program.

“It’s really ridiculous for us to be quibbling about the world we live in when we have so many other worlds to worry about,” says Allen. “In fact, we should be the ones complaining – we thought we were going to get a $16.8 billion budget this year, but instead we only got $16.4 billion . . . life just isn’t fair and Willy should understand that by now.”

This is the mentality that sent Willy over the edge and into the realm of Hurling Colt 45 Cans at a Building.

“Collecting dust . . . fuck,” gripes Willy from his cell. “I ain’t eaten in six days.”

According to NASA officials, the poorly educated sector of the country does not appreciate or understand the importance of NASA’s findings.

“This is space dust people,” says Stardust Mission Systems Manager Ed Hirst. “If we can just study this space dust we might be able to discover how old our universe really is . . . this invaluable knowledge will do so much for our society.”

Willy thinks otherwise.

“I don’t give a fuck if our ‘universe’ is 100 years old or 100-thousand-zillion years old,” says Willy. “I’m still fucking hungry.”

Kirkpatrick agrees.

“There seems to be a direct correlation between the stupidity and overall uselessness of NASA’s missions and the poverty rate,” says Kirkpatrick. “Our country’s priorities are totally backwards . . . and I expect it to get worse.”

After a brief stay in jail, Willy will be released later this week.

Greetings

So, now that my employment is even more atrocious than it was already (the $12 million lawsuit has put a mild damper on things), I’m in the process of searching for another job.

For the third (3^rd) time in my life, I sent in my desperate headshot to a talent agency in a pathetic attempt to land some sort of shot-in-the-dark luck-of-the-draw acting job.

After deluding myself for about 2 hours, I decided to get practical with my job hunt and [for the second (2nd) time in my life] I applied to be a greeting card writer. In order to apply for the job I had to complete several humor-writing exercises.

The card company provided me with the “Cover Copy” then I had to provide them with the “Inside Copy.” Here are some of the touching and hilarious lines I submitted:

CARD #1
Their Cover Copy: Women are like fine wine . . .
My Inside Copy: . . . you drag them out of a mildewed cellar and uncork them on holidays. Happy Birthday, Mom!

CARD #2
Their Cover Copy: This year, why not celebrate your birthday like a real man?
My Inside Copy: Murder a stripper. Have a Terrific Birthday!

CARD #3
Their Cover Copy: Your mother spent four grueling hours in the kitchen making you a birthday cake from scratch.
My Inside Copy: Well, I’m not your fucking mother. Here’s a Quaalude. Don’t call.

CARD #4
Their Cover Copy: In your time of loss just remember that best friends live on forever in the memories we keep.
My Inside Copy: Unless those memories are eaten by cancer. Sorry ___________ died the other day.

CARD #5
Their Cover Copy: I’m so glad our paths crossed in this crazy life.
My Inside Copy: It’s also too bad we had to abort it. Happy One-Month Anniversary!

With copy like this, it’s practically impossible for me NOT to get the job.

Next, I decided that a job in advertising, entertainment, or card-writing is just too fickle. I need to help the human race. I need to give back. Instead of criticizing the world day in and day out, I need to build it up and do something positive with my time and make the world better, even if it doesn’t make much money.

So, I began to look at jobs in the medical field. After scanning several newspaper pages crammed with high-paying medical jobs, I stumbled upon one that required no previous medical experience or training. The opening was for a “Manual Medical Caregiver.” Unsure what a “Manual Medical Caregiver” was exactly, I decided to call the little phone number on the ad and get to the bottom of it. After having a very awkward (and very brief) conversation with an androgynous voice, I quickly learned that a “Manual Medical Caregiver” is a professional handjob-giver-outer.

I am gravely serious. This job actually exists. Apparently hand jobs help treat back pain or depression or something.

Because performing doctor-prescribed handjobs to dirty-ass male veterans in a dirty-ass hospital would be the MOST DISTURBING THING EVER, I decided to give up on the medical professional and just find a job that suits my special talents: producing mindless, throw-away paraphernalia that attempts to sell shit that no one really needs!

Let’s just say, I don’t sleep well at night.

Man Retires; Eats Wife

WICHITA, KS – Fred Peterson had it all. A house. A car. A family. A job. But one thing Peterson didn’t have was a Realistic Retirement Plan. In fact, Peterson was so unprepared for retirement that he was actually depending on his monthly social security check of $1043.08 to pay all of his post-work expenses.

Then, on January 9, Peterson ate his wife . . . whole.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like this,” the teary Peterson told reporters soon after his arrest. “She said I could do it.”

Peterson minutes after the incident.

Officials did in fact find what seemed to be a suicide note signed by Peterson’s wife, Anne. However, the gruesome act is still questionable.

“I’m just surprised he ate her whole,” says Chief Investigator Charles Plum. “That son of a bitch must have been huuungry.”

According to police reports the couple had been living on a diet of old dog food, dry pancake mix, wall-plaster, and their living room rug for over eight months.

“I have a heart condition,” said Peterson. “I take $180 worth of pills every day . . . the social security check was gone within the first week . . . our rug wasn’t all bad, anyway.”

This instance of post-retirement cannibalism is not exactly rare. In fact, across the nation cases of domestic cannibalism are reported in approximately 1 of every 200 retired couples.

Many retirees convince their spouses to become a feast – sort of a “going away present.”

“This is an epidemic that’s plaguing our nation,” said President George W. Bush at a press conference. “I even caught my own father gnawing on Mama’s meaty calves one morning – just kidding – that must have been those two sides of beef that I have the government send to their front door every Tuesday and Thursday. Heh-Heh.”

While the President offers no real solution to the problem, real lawmakers believe this country needs a drastic change in policy to prevent such atrocities from ever taking place.

“Wait, I’m not done yet,” interrupts George W. Bush. “I think we should use all of our social security money to fund big, elaborate spying programs that help me monitor what library books people are checking out . . . I like the 365 Football Facts Calendar.”

As most readers probably realize, the 365 Football Facts Calendar is not really a book at all. In fact, it’s a 3” x 5” calendar that combines sentence fragments and pictures.

“The real problem here are the retirees,” says Dr. Sharon Ryan, Economics Professor for the University of Missouri. “When the social security system was put in place, we didn’t expect these old fuckers to live this long – if they would all just hurry up and die or eat each other then we wouldn’t be talking about this at all.”

Dumbass Product: Power Nap Sleep Center

Ah, the Mall of America . . . a breeding ground for the worst the United States has to offer. Now, when I say “breeding ground” – I don’t mean that metaphorically – I mean it literally. Since the mall was opened in 1992, over 4,200 couples have been married in this Menagerie of Nausea and Wailing Babies. People love shopping so much, that they will actually choose a hot-bed of consumerism as their wedding spot.

Dumb Depressing Couple Getting Married at the Mall of America. Click here to view Will and Kristie’s Sad and Pathetic Wedding Story as narrated by Will himself.

Do you know what this means? This means that this shopping mall has succeeded in selling the act of shopping itself. It’s not selling a product, but the opportunity to shop for products.

Anyway, I digress, the Mall of America has a new addition to its family of 520 mall vendors. This new vendor is without a doubt dumber and more pathetic than the mall itself:

Power Nap Sleep Centers called “minneNAPolis.” Get it?

For only $0.70/minute, dumb, weary, blonde shoppers or old people trying to fight off a heart attack can lie down and nap in a Power Nap Sleep Center. This means for a mere $10, I could take a 15-minute nap. For a mere $20, I could take a 30-minute nap. What a great deal!

Looks like some spoiled, dumb weary blonde bitch needs a $0.70/minute power nap!

These overpriced sleep chambers include the following “sleepospheres”:

Asian Mist
Deep Space
Key West
Mesa Plateau
Tropical Isle

Most of these sleep chambers consist of darkness/black lights, ambient music, bean bag chairs, and recliners. THEY DON’T EVEN PROVIDE ACTUAL BEDS! (Probably because people are less apt to screw each other in a chair.)

This Power Nap Sleep Center proves that not only can you sell anything, you can sell NOTHING. You can actually package, position, promote and sell Nothing – and succeed at it!

First it was bottled water, then it was air purifiers, now it’s Silence/Darkness-By-the-Minute. It’s 100% intangible and it’s a “service” that’s available for free when you get home, yet it can still be priced and sold as a commodity! I am in total awe!

Selling Nap Time is actually DUMBER than paying some hack in beads to tell your fortune. YET – I would wager that more people would use this nap service than fortune telling services.

I am convinced that these Sleep Center People (Steev RamsDell, CEO) are geniuses. They are cashing in on the ABSOLUTE IGNORANCE of our bloated, spendthrift population – convincing people that they need to pay for something they could get for free.

Here’s an Idea for Silence and Relaxation: Don’t go to the Mall of Fucking America in the first place.

[Got a Dumbass Product? Submit it to mistereid@hotmail.com]