sara bareilles' boyfriend never even wanted a f#@king love song in the first place

by now you've surely heard that tune by my ex-girlfriend, sara bareilles, titled "love song." you know the one, the song that the first dozen are so times you heard it you started to bob your head and tap your foot rhythmically because it had a snappy beat, the one whose lyrics you used to sing out loud in your car as you drove to work once you learned all the words, the one that plays so much on the radio, television, and in rite aid while you're standing on line to buy soap and toilet paper that you want to beat yourself mercilessly about the genitals in frustration when you hear it. you know, THAT song?!?!?



unless you've been held captive inside of bea arthur's vagina, which i'm told is the gitmo of vaginal captivity, for the past 6 months, i guarantee you've heard it. the chorus goes like this...

I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see

I'm not gonna write you a love song
'cause you tell me it's
Make or break in this
If you're on your way
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I'm gonna need a better
Reason to write you a love song today

why am i telling you all of this? well, as sara's ex-boyfriend, in an effort to set the record straight (no pun intended), i feel it my duty to tell you the true backstory of this song. here's how it goes...

one night we were laying in bed after a half hour or so of missionary sex and i mentioned that there was something that i'd really like sara to do for me. well, before i could even get the words out to actually tell her what it was i wanted her to do, she lept to conclusions and jumped out of bed acting all crazy...

"you want me to write you a fucking love song, don't you? DON'T YOU?! motherfuckingsonofabitch!!!! i thought you were different but you're just like every guy i date. you just automatically thinks that because i'm a girl who can sing and play piano that i'll just write you a love song. well i'm not, damnit! i'm not gonna write you a silly love song! in fact, i'm gonna do you one better and i'm gonna go off right now and write a song about how i'm NOT gonna write you a love song! and oh, by the way, i'm also breaking up with you!"

and with that she stormed out the door of my apartment, never to be seen again, until she started popping up on VH1 of course. but here's the irony about all this...

I NEVER WANTED A FUCKING LOVE SONG!

rather, i wanted something that daddy's little princess apparently thought that she was too good to ever do for me or any other man.

I WANTED A FUCKING BLOWJOB!

yeah, that's right, i couldn't give two shits about a gay ass love song! i'm a dude dammit! all i wanted was for sara to put my cheese sausage in her mouth and to slobber all over it while moving her precious little hand up and down its shaft in a rhythmic motion. you know, a blowjob! have you heard of that sara? is that too much to ask of america's little darling songstress?!

but hey, you know what, let's just assume for a second that i did actually want you to write me a love song. is that really too much to ask? if you're dating a chef, is it too much to ask him or her to cook a meal for you? if you're dating a doctor, is it too much to ask him or her to write you a prescription for xanax? if you're dating a hair stylist, is it too much to ask him or her for a haircut?

NO!

so fuck you sara. you were a shitty girlfriend anyway.

and oh, by the way, your song is fucking lame.

(ED. NOTE: this was an imaginary monologue. i never dated sara bareilles. i don't even know her. i've certainly never engaged in coitus with her. for all i know she could be a cock-sucking fiend. although she does hold an eerie resemblance to my first nyc roommate, who was a singer, and someone that i foolishly slept with a few times. i strongly discourage roommate fucking, by the way. bad idea all around. maybe it's possible that she changed her name to sara bareilles. if so, it should be noted that i never asked her to write me a love song.)


bathing with bierko

i once had an idea to write a tv show/movie/play about a guy (an obese, italian former mob boss from brooklyn in the witness relocation program to be precise), who gives advice to people while he's on the can taking a shit because, naturally, that's where any man does his best thinking. so his clients (he's a "lifecoach") come into the bathroom after he's eaten a porterhouse with creamed spinach and garlic potatoes on the side and have to endure his violent gastric expulsions in order to get his advice, which is golden, so it makes it worth having to endure an olfactory nightmare to receive it.

pretty genius eh? (now don't go trying to steal my ideas fuckers, cuz iz got that shit copyrighted!!! and hollywood, i've got a million other phat ideas just like that one, so...CALL ME!)

anyway, for some reason, when i saw "bathing with bierko," it made me think of my fat guy dispensing advice from the shitter idea. the premise is simple: craig bierko in a bathtub bathing a celebrity while conducting an interview with them. the inaugural guest was, who else, john malkovich.




epic weed shortage at tulane university

a friend brought this article from the tulane student newspaper, the hullabaloo, to my attention. the story, which focuses on the fact that there is now a shortage of weed at tulane rather that the fact that there was a drug bust on campus, almost reads like something out of the onion. an excerpt...

Tulane underclassmen have recently reported a shortage of quality marijuana available on-campus. A drug bust two weeks ago purportedly influenced campus supply, and subsequent developments have further limited resources.

TUPD arrested two freshmen in their room early last week on possession charges. The students spent a night in jail and Tulane lawyers got them out on bail within 24 hours. They had cocaine and marijuana in their room, according to a TUPD crime report.

"Everybody knew about it," another freshman said. "And once they got busted, they stopped dealing. Obviously, that kind of thing would mess up their whole legal defense."

The purported dealers seem to have been a main source for many underclassmen students.

"They're nice guys and they sell good weed," a sophomore said.

Others say that the pair seemed to always have drugs.

"You could count on them most of the time," a freshman said.

i sent a link to the article to alex balk, a tulane alum and lead editor at radar online, last night and the resulting story featured a laugh-out-loud headline that incorporated tulane's mascot, the green wave, into it.

links to original tulane newspaper article and radar's reaction to it are below...

weed shortage on campus

juicy campus ends tulane's green wave


an official louisiana state drink?

a reader named danielle passed along this excerpt from a times picayune article to me in an email. question...what the fuck is a "sazerac?" it sounds like something that would grow between your toes!

Believe it or not but the Sazerac may be designated the "official state cocktail" at the regular legislative session that starts March 31.

An apparent fan of the concoction, Democratic Sen. Edwin Murray of New Orleans filed in advance of the session Senate Bill 6 designating the Sazerac the official state cocktail, claiming it is the first mixed drink invented in New Orleans and one of the first in the country.

"We will probably have a little fun with this bill" as a diversion from the heavy issues lawmakers will face at the upcoming session, Murray told The Times-Picayune. "There will be a very aggressive effort to get it done."

The paper reported that Ann Tuennerman, founder of the annual New Orleans Tales of the Cocktail activities, has written Murray to urge passage of the bill because the Sazerac has "evolved over time and represents history in a glass... When folks come to New Orleans, they want certain things authentic and original to the Crescent City, be it a beignet, a po-boy, a cup of chicory coffee, oysters Rockefeller, bread pudding or Bananas Foster."

The drink in its original form was invented in the 1830s in New Orleans by pharmacist Antoine Amedee Peychaud, who fled Haiti and opened an apothecary on Royal Street in the French Quarter, according to the Picayune. To create the drink, he added his own blend of bitters and Louisiana cane sugar to a French brandy.

Murray's bill asks that the state to use the official cocktail on "official documents...and with the insignia of the state."


BREAKING: mexicans are not friendly to the emo douche

memo to emo douchebags. if planning a trip to mexico, leave the eyeliner and spikey hair gel behind. lest you be beaten by angry mobs.


(via radar)



happy birthday to "downtown tammy brown"

i have to end this post by extending birthday wishes to a faithful CBITC reader, tammy brown. in case you've wondering why her nickname is "downtown tammy brown," well, you can make your own assumptions.

in honor of tammy's birthday, i'd like to dedicate this video to her. seeing it reminded me of how much i sorely miss chappelle's show. this is, by the way, my philosophy on life, and something i think that is worth tammy thinking about as she celebrates the anniversary of her successful passage through her mother's birth canal. i present to you "fuck it," as sung by charlie murphy.




couple of bullshit items here as well...
http://cajunboy.tumblr.com