Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Blondes
Let’s start with Zivile Useckaite, pictured alongside, who is the chalk. She lives in Dublin and rears a remarkably ugly breed of bald cat, often dressing them in brightly-coloured garments. This may be necessary to prevent them from shivering. Her hobby is undoubtedly eccentric, but Ms Useckaite is no fool because she works in cancer research. Her cats look as if they’re on chemotherapy, so maybe they remind her of her worthy occupation.
The cheese is Eva Braun, the long-suffering mistress and short-lived spouse of Adolf Hitler. A long lost painting of her has been found in an attic and is expected to fetch six thousand pounds on auction. Was she stupid? Yes, but it couldn’t be helped. Hitler would never have tolerated a clever woman who criticised his military strategy or made ironic remarks about moustache. Furthermore, pictures of Eva suggest her hair was dirty blond or maybe even light brown. This shows that the fuehrer was willing to compromise on racial features to obtain a mistress who was suitably dim and docile. You can’t think less of blond women because of Eva Braun.
And now to the chutney, a retired model called Blondie Bennett, who wants to be a life-sized Barbie doll. Her admiration for the plastic princess is both fulsome and tinged with envy:
“She has the best life,” explains Blondie. “All she does is shop and make herself look pretty – she doesn’t worry about anything.”
Not that Blondie has much to worry about. She has an army of online sugar daddies who pay all her bills in return for photos of her in their favourite Barbie costumes.
Belittling Miss Bennett’s intelligence would be as easy as farting on a mushroom; but if you think she’d be upset by such insults, you’d be wrong. The incorrigible woman actually wants to be dumber, and is currently undergoing a program of hypnotherapy to make her more vacuous and Barbie-like.
“I’ve had 20 sessions and I’m already starting to feel ditzy and confused,” she said proudly. “I want people to see me as a plastic sex doll – and being brainless is a big part of that.”
Some might say that Blondie is wasting her money, because she couldn’t possibly be stupider than she already is. I would point out that the money she spends comes from her sugar daddies, so she doesn’t have to worry about wasting it. The hypnotherapy sessions will prove her commitment to the mission statement, even if they don’t make her noticeably dimmer, which should keep her sponsors happy.
In any case, I don’t believe Miss Bennett is really an airhead. How many humans are richly rewarded simply for imitating a doll? It isn’t even a good imitation if you look at her photo below. Only an expert in self-promotion could have pulled off her caper. She’s the kind of blonde I’d want on my team if I were planning the hoax of the century.
Labels: bimbo, blondes, cats, Eva Braun, Hitler, hypnosis
Monday, October 10, 2011
Pamela's new position
My friend Pamela Anderson is begging me to help her become a UN goodwill ambassador. I got a call from her yesterday:
“I want to do it so much!” she mewed. “Couldn’t you pull a few strings behind the scenes, GB?”.
“I’ll try my best, Pammy, but don’t expect miracles,” I replied. “There is only so much a gorilla can do to influence the big-wigs of international diplomacy. Throwing my weight around recklessly would be counterproductive.”
She gave me her loving thanks and expressed full confidence in my lobbying abilities.
To be perfectly honest, I‘m not sure what a UN goodwill ambassador does. The only one I know anything about is Ginger Spice, who promoted the cause of sex education for the world’s rampant teenagers. Pamela would certainly be overqualified for that task, but her instruction videos have already been widely disseminated. Touring the world to give the same lessons in person would be a pointless exercise. On the other hand, it’s quite possible that she’s made new breakthroughs in the field. Never underestimate the creativity of a woman who named her breasts Pancho and Lefty.
Perhaps I’ll write a letter to Banky-Moon, informing him of Pamela’s affectionate nature and well-rounded interpersonal skills. He seems like an earnest little fellow who wears his heart on his sleeve. I’m sure he’ll warm to the qualities of a philanthropic actress whose bosom is brimming with compassion. Even if Pamela doesn’t win the goodwill job, he ought to give her another position in his office. No prominent man wants people to think he’s biased against blondes. I can honestly say that Pammy is smarter than most of the elephants of the Congo Basin.
Not all blond women are intelligent, of course. Hitler’s squeeze Eva Braun was a pitiful airhead. The Fuehrer, it seems, was attracted to women who wouldn’t give him backchat or point out the flaws in his bogus racial theories. Eva had the good sense, nevertheless, not to remove her knickers in public and keep schtum about her boyfriend’s peculiar bedroom tastes.
Heaven knows what Adolf and Eva would have made of the German couple who had sex in a football stadium. Their lurid exhibitionism was an abject failure, because the crowd were too engrossed in the game to pay them any heed. They only got the attention they craved when an eagle-eyed steward told them that bonking each other wasn’t an acceptable substitute for the Mexican wave. They were later expelled from the ground after another insidious attempt at scoring in an offside position.
What this episode proves is that sex will never rival football as a spectator sport. People who roar ecstatically when a goal is scored just don’t feel the same elation when they watch strangers copulate. A ball thudding into the back of a net is a far more powerful image than all the cum-shots, cum-faces and cream-pies one could muster in craziest orgy known to pornographic science. Don’t ask me whether that’s a good thing – my job is to observe, not judge.
Labels: Banky-Moon, Eva Braun, Hitler, Pamela Anderson, United Nations
