I was reading the news this morning, because I enjoy stories of black men beating white women (especially when the white woman deserves it). There’s an article on ABCnews.com that describes just how desperate and pathetic the Hillary Clinton campaign has become.

“For Hillary Clinton in particular, this week is do or die…Camp Clinton is hoping for a swing in the pendulum of media sympathy and scrutiny — and they hope every reporter in the country saw the opening skit in the return of Saturday Night Live.”

Really? Why doesn’t she ask all the reporters in the country to water-board themselves while they’re at it? Because, yikes, that shit was terrrrrible.

The best part of the article though, had to be its accompanying picture, seen here:

It’s Hillary the Hillariveter! That is so Hillarelevant! Good job, Clinton fans. Nothing attracts the youth vote more than photoshopping your candidate’s face onto WWII propaganda. Idiots. Y’all just got PLIPP’d.

I mean, if you’re going to do it, fucking do it. Here are some posters I made for the Hillary campaign:

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If you don’t mind, I’d like to quickly go back to last week’s “Is Lil Wayne crazy?” debate, because more evidence has come to life (in the affirmative). If for some reason you weren’t satisfyingly convinced the first time around, I would like to submit this for your consideration. Apparently, Lil Wayne is collaborating with Zac Efron on the next High School Musical CD. Lil Wayne. Zac Efron. Disney’s High School Musical.

I highly recommend reading the entire article. But, for those of you who don’t want to read another entire Lil Wayne interview, how about I just turn it into an original one-act play? (Note: All things in BOLD are taken directly out of the interview.)

“Zac n’ Weezy: A Love Story”
By Joe Mande

Curtains open.

Lil Wayne sits upon a golden toilet, in a large, Scarface-inspired restroom, admiring the prominent nude sculpture of himself across the room. He lifts his pants up and walks towards the sink. A tuxedo-clad bathroom attendant flushes the toilet and scampers back just in time to pump soap in to outstretched hands of Lil Wayne.

LIL WAYNE: You like that sculpture over there?

ATTENDANT: Why, yes I do. What is it, exactly? A Jamaican gremlin?

LIL WAYNE: It’s a sculpture of me you penguin-lookin’ mothafucka.

ATTENDANT: My deepest apologies. I should have known. Would you like some Juicy Fruit gum, sir?

LIL WAYNE: That’s what I pay you for, you stupid ass bitch!

ATTENDANT: Ah, yes indeed. Here you are.

Lil Wayne opens his mouth, taking his Juicy Fruit like a communion wafer.

LIL WAYNE: Nice tuxedo. Suck my dick, penguin. No homo.

Lil Wayne makes his way to the recording studio, where he begins rolling a joint the size of an infant’s arm.

LIL WAYNE: I’m so glad I started making music for white people.

Zac Efron enters, gliding into the room on Heelys.

ZAC EFRON: What’s up my nigga?

Lil Wayne gets up and kisses Zac Efron on the mouth

LIL WAYNE: What’s crackin’, my brother from another mother?

ZAC EFRON: Brother from another mother? You said the same exact thing in San Fransisco, when you followed me into the bathroom at that comic book convention after party.

LIL WAYNE: Yo! You look cute, dawg. Hows about we go record more songs for this High School Musical bullshit.

ZAC EFRON: Sounds dope to me!

Zach Efron enters the booth and puts the headphones on. He begins singing, but Lil Wayne quickly cuts him off.

LIL WAYNE: The acoustics ain’t right. Take your pants off.

ZAC EFRON: If you say so, Weezy.

Zac Efron takes his pants off.

ZAC EFRON (singing): Everybody, all for one! A real summer has just begun! Let’s rock and roll and just let go! Feel the rhythm of the drums! We’re gonna have fun in the sun!

Lil Wayne enters the booth, naked and erect. He begins rapping.

LIL WAYNE (rapping): I’m a dog, you’re all a bunch of fleas on my dick. Driving a Jag, er, like my name was Mick. I’m so sour like cream with chives, and my sperm will make your face break out in hives.

A white screen descends upon the stage. Lil Wayne and Zac Efron make passionate gay love, their shadows projecting onto the screen like Chinese shadow theater. Lights down.

Lights up. The white screen is lifted. We find Lil Wayne and Zac Efron cuddling under a mink coat adorned with patches of all 30 NBA teams.

ZAC EFRON: Man, that was fun. Do you have anything else you’re working on.

LIL WAYNE: Oh, you know, I just did songs with Mannheim Steamroller, something for the new Raffi album, and 16 bars in Spanish on Ricky Martin’s new one.

ZAC EFRON: Wow. Don’t you ever get tired of your schedule?

LIL WAYNE: Hell, no! This is how I live! I get up in the morning, get my dick sucked four times, drink a Molson’s, and then hang out with you, Zac Efron.

ZAC EFRON: Word.

Curtains close. THE END.

For the past two years, I’ve had a full-time job at a fancy glasses store in Soho. However, I’m sad to say, today is my last day in the optical business.

During my time as an eyeglass employee, I’ve slowly been demoted from copywriter to window display artist to, finally, delivery boy. It’s been a long, strange experience that I feel deserves a long, self-indulgent recap.

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Or at least made one of them about Kwanzaa?

Wow. Ok. So, last night’s show was insane. Thanks so much to everyone who came out. “Magical” is the only word to describe what happened. Lives were changed.

If you missed the show, please let me first tell you how sorry I am that your parents died (for that’s the only reason I can think of for not coming). Here’s a short re-cap: Noah and I showed our audition tape for the upcoming Notorious B.I.G. movie, Gabe and Jenny told a hilarious haunted Hollywood Halloween tale, Max Silvestri wined n’ dined the crowd with his patented jokes n’ quips^tm, and, as always, Greg Johnson crushed. Oh, also, Brett Gelman put on the single most amazing performance done by any human being on any stage anywhere. (No hyperbole.) The man got a standing ovation. At Rififi.

I recorded Brett’s performance with my iPod. You know, just for myself to have and hold and cherish. I listened to the mp3 on the train this morning, and, despite the fact that the sound quality is quite terrible, it still made me snarf coffee all over myself twice. Because of this, I have decided to share the 1000 Cats mp3 with the rest of the world. No matter how shitty it sounds.

Obviously, the grainy, cavernous audio doesn’t do 1000 Cats justice at all. Not even 1/1000^th of 1% of its justice. But, it’s the best I can do…and apparently the best that you could do too.

So, here. Enjoy.

You’re welcome.

I saw the most amazing person in New York City on the subway today. I stared at him for a good half hour, absorbing every detail. I can’t even describe it, other than it was like seeing a unicorn. Only way gayer and more magical.

Has anyone else seen this man? I need to know what his deal is. Please?

(Note: I seriously need a camera phone.)

1: Severely crossed eyes.
2: Real mustache.
3: Fake, painted-on handlebar mustache.
4: Silly glasses.
5: Sam Cassell head.
6: Eyeliner.
7: Black spandex top (possibly a unitard).
8: Pleated women’s fat pants.
9: Miniature briefcase.
10: Homemade belt made of purple streamers.
11: Military boots.
12: Clipped-on cell phone (attached to purple streamer belt).
13: Four extra-fine Sharpie markers (blue).
14: Giant red leather wristwatch.

Sometimes, when it’s gross and rainy outside, I search for an up-tempo and inspirational youtube to help get me through the day. Today I think I hit the jackpot.

Wow. So good. Like, SOOOOOO good. I can’t handle how good it is. Seriously, 2:52-2:56 of that video rivals Little Superstar’s 0:36-0:41 for the funniest thing I’ve seen on the internets. Uhm, her face?

By a show of hands, who thought Evelyn Thomas was full-blown retarded?

Can we make this the new internet sensation? Please? God?

(Also, 1:33-1:40 and 2:03-2:04.)