KANYE WEST IS ONE OF THE MOST PERFECT GENTLEMEN OF ALL TIME

A lyrical wordsmith.

Kanye West has taken a ton of heat ever since he interrupted Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech for some MTV award.  A very ignorant Katy Perry even compared the incident to “stepping on a kitten” which we all know is ridiculous.  Kanye did what he did because he has way too much love to give…nothing more, nothing less.  You see, in his own words, he was “happy” for Taylor, and was “gonna let [her] finish” which shows pure class.  The fact that she did not finish was her own fault.  Kanye has even since issued an unnecessary apology on Jay Leno to Miss Swift.  When questioned about the incident by troll-blog.com, Kanye issued this response, tongue planted firmly in cheek.  Obviously, he’s a man who doesn’t take himself too seriously.  In fact, he loved a recent episode of South Park in which he was compared to a gay fish.  To put it simply, Kanye Omari West is simply misunderstood simply.  And before you ask, I can prove it.

Remember when Kanye famously stated that George Bush doesn’t care about black people?  That was just a bit!  Seriously, he was with noted funnyman Mike Myers!  He was just kidding.  In fact, my sources tell me that Kanye called President Bush beforehand to run the joke by him and make sure it was cool.  Bush was like, yeah bro!  That’s hilarious!  Of course, a small portion of the video was taken out of context and smeared across the internet in an attempt to raise disdain towards Kanye.  Now you know the truth.

Remember in 2007, when Kanye was bumped from performing at the MTV video music awards in favor of Britney Spears, and he famously remarked that the reason might be because his “skin’s not right?”  No you don’t.  Never happened.  Paper towels.  Neither did the Rolling Stone photo shoot where he dressed as Jesus.

I’m sure that this brief look back at the controversies surrounding Kanye West have proved eye opening.  Kanye West is clearly not a self-absorbed douchebag, and he certainly isn’t a gay fish.  Anyone who speaks to the contrary is lying to you.

ANGRY HITLER IS ANGRY ABOUT BEING ANGRY

Troll-blog.com would like to present a video created by the Head Troll himself.  Enjoy.

I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE PICKED ED OMGz WTF

The hit show The Bachelorette wrapped up tonight on FOX, NBC, ABC, or CBS.  I’m not sure which one, since I have a life.  Apparently, the bachelorette chick either did or did not pick the ugly/douchey one, depending on who you ask.  In my opinion, she picked the biggest douchebag in the bunch.  What am I basing this on?  My knowledge of womenfolk and their love for gigantic douchebags.  I bet the guy she picked told her how much he loved her, how he knew that he was put on the earth to be with her, how fate had brought them together.  I’ll also bet that while he was telling her these sweet nothings, the following thoughts never entered her mind, no matter how much they should have:  1. Wait…this dude has known me for 2 weeks.  We have spent a grand total of 2 hours alone together because he won the extreme survival challenge on last Thursday’s episode.  Why is he saying these things to me? 2.  Wait…could he possibly saying these things to me in order to look cool on TV, or at an even more basic level, to get in my pants? 3.  Wait…This guy is wearing, doing, saying, and being everything the show’s producers have told him to do, what if this isn’t the real him? 4.  Wait…when did I become such an attention grubbing whore? These four thoughts can, of course, be applied to any of the people who have appeared on reality dating/marriage shows.

So another season finale has come and gone, and with millions of squealing women acting like 4th graders + wine at a sleep over party forced to wait until next season, (which I’m sure will be completely different and more compelling than last season, and the season before that.  And that.  And that. And that.And that.Andthat) we here at Troll Blog want to do our part to hold you over until then.  So here are some random selections from entering the word “bachelorette” into Google Images.  Enjoy.

I have no idea who this is.

I'm sure these are all fine, morally upstanding young ladies

I am now uncomfortable

But how will illiterate people know she's a bride to be?

Sensing a trend...

I'm as confused as you are.

I think they have these so women will know what parts of their husband to avoid after marriage.

USE BIRTH CONTROL? HAVE FUN IN HELL, pt. 1

One of the biggest issues facing America today (besides Michael Jackson’s will) is abortion.  We here at the Troll Blog believe this issue should be broadened to include all forms of birth control.  When does a person become a person and therefore have rights?  Is it when a baby is yanked from its mother’s most private of areas, destroying them in the process?  Is it when a fetus has been in the womb for a certain amount of time?  Is it the moment sperm and egg join together during a primordial wedding ceremony after a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill and an insincere promise of two people being together forever?  Or is it when a prospective father is just 13 years old and begins to develop millions upon millions of tiny future children in the part of his anatomy that God himself clearly threw together with no regard for beauty or functionality?  It is only when you think about what could be, that you realize that a single condom or birth control pill is robbing thousands of generations of humans their very existence.

CONDOMS KILL MORE BABIES THAN ABORTIONS AND LEAD-BASED CHINESE TOYS COMBINED

Think about this:  An abortion, while terrible in its own right, robs the life of one future child, assuming the little bugger would have survived until birth otherwise.  This is a terrible thing, unless you take into account the millions of starving, neglected children in the world who would give anything to have just been aborted while they were a collection of rapidly-dividing cells and weren’t aware of life, death, or pain.  It seems ridiculous to take that in to account, however, since neo-conservatives tell everyone that life is precious no matter what, right before they bomb another clinic.  And they seem like trustworthy people.

All that said, condoms and birth control pills are much, much worse.  An abortion occurs after the sperm and egg have joined, meaning no other sperm could fertilize that particular egg.  Therefore, only one future human’s potential could be created and then destroyed at this point.  A condom is designed to trap and kill every sperm in a male ejaculation.  It is estimated that in each and every ejaculation, a male human person releases 200 million sperm, enough to impregnate every woman in America….twice.  Since the egg has not been fertilized at the time of ejaculation, we can conclude that the birth control device, in this case a condom, snuffed out the human potential of every single one of those 200 million sperm.  Behold the Trojan Genocide.  Anti-abortion activists like to point out that the fetus you abort may have been the next Einstein, the next Martin Luther King, Jr., The next Shaq.  While they leave out the part that the fetus may also have been the next Charles Manson, Adolf Hitler, or Michael Bay, their point rings out true.  Now think of this on a much grander scale.  Every time you use a condom, you may have killed 200 million Einsteins.  Think of all the good 200 million Einsteins could do.  It would be like this army of geniuses figuring out ways to solve all of Earth’s problems.  Maybe they could get super powers from various radioactive animals and be Super-Einsteins.  The point is, the potential is limitless.  But that can never happen, because you practice safe sex.

Working on a formula to banish condoms and solve his own grooming issues

Deciding to use birth control is a choice that people make every day, but what if someone came along and removed your sexual organs against your will?  You probably wouldn’t think that was too awesome.

NEUTER THE URGE TO NEUTER YOUR PET

Why only think about the rights of humans?  Simply because we are human?  How incredibly selfish.  The Trojan Genocide Principle applies to the animal kingdom as well.  Bob Barker used to remind us after every episode of The Price Is Right to spay or neuter our pets.  Little did he know he was robbing us of the next Lassie, the next Scooby Doo, the next Rosie O’Donnell.  The point these so called “animal lovers” want to make is that dog and cat populations are out of control, so it is justified to rob these noble animals of their ability to create life in order to avoid the pain, suffering, and starvation that the offspring of these animals would surely endure.  Who wants to see precious little kitty cats starve in an alleyway behind a pizzeria, eating only fish skeletons out of the garbage like we see documented in so many cartoons?  Who wants to see a puppy stumble off of a steep mountain pass, grabbing a slowly crumbling rock with his puppy-fingernails while willing himself to not look down at the black, gaping cavern below filled with the glint of jagged ice formations as his puppy friend runs over to grab his paw and attempt to hoist him up, only due to his puppy-friend’s  malnourishment, his grip is not tight enough, and as he slips away to his untimely death, the two puppies maintain eye contact until the darkness of the chasm separates them forever?  No one wants to see that.  Especially if it all were to happen in slow-motion.  Here’s the thing:  As shocking and emotionally charged their argument is, pro-neuter people completely ignore the fact that humans are the most overcrowded species on Earth.  Children starve, freeze, and die from swine flu every day, even in the most advanced and progressive countries.  So how come there isn’t a movement to neuter humans?  It is truly hypocrisy in its purest form, especially when you take into account that humans are pretty much hit or miss when it comes to being positive members of society, whereas cute little puppy dogs are always the very picture of good.

Pwese don't nooter my daddy!

Editor’s note:  This article will be continued at a later date.  Until then, let us know what you think!  Post a comment, or e-mail the Head Troll at headtroll@troll-blog.com.

HERE’S TO YOU, 5 FOOT 3 MEXICAN GUY

You walk into the club and take it all in, the people, the party, the bar (which you can barely see over).  You see some girls and nod your head “yes” to yourself as the multicolored laser lights shine on the dirt under your fingernails.  Your amigo begins to talk to the back of a girl’s head, so you hit the dance floor.  You may be a small target in the middle of all of those throbbing masses of girating pelvises, but you know that once everyone sees your loco dance moves, you’re in.  So you indiscriminately pick out the 1st ass that you see, and this time, you make sure it’s a girl’s.  You press your body to hers and begin thrusting, waiving your small hands with the big black “X”s on them all around.  It’s like fishing, maybe you hit a boob, but when you do you can say it was an accident, when actually you know you just caught that D sized nipple trout you’d been hoping for.  The girl who’s ass you’re thrusting your now half-hard genitals against turns around and glances down at you when she realizes that the rigid thing shes feeling isn’t a belt buckle.  She shouts profanities at you, maybe makes a comment about how you look like a tool with that popped up shirt collar, but you don’t care.  You know that in your version of this story, you’ll say, “She totally wanted me vato!”  So you begin to get happy hands and nonchalantly grab an asscheek or two inbetween thrusts.  You’ve been arrested for this kind of behaivior before, but in America, sexual harrassment is not only tolerated but encouraged in any establishment as long as the newest Lil’ Wayne beat is reverberating in the background.  Disaster strikes as the duct-tape that was holding your left shoe together begins to peel off due to the resistance the sticky floor is providing it.  You know in your mind, and yours is the only one that matters to you, that the girl would have gladly gone into the handicapped bathroom with you if only you didn’t have a fashion problem that forced you to the back of the dance floor to attend to it.  You know you can get a girl anywhere, right?  Right????  But if this shoe falls apart you may be forced to the sidelines for the rest of the night, although it wouldn’t be your fault, and trust yourself, you’re not just making another excuse.  So as a favor to all of the girls who will be lucky enough to come into contact with you in the future, you put your head down and sulk to the bar where your amigo is talking to a different back of a girl’s head.  You say, “Let’s get out of here, Homes, the girls in here are too ugly, yah?” He agrees and you both walk out the double doors, into your 1985 orange Cutlass with two spare tires and a hole in the passengers side floorboard, and drive away as you recount all the ladies that weren’t good enough for you, anyway.

TRANSFORMERS 2 IS THE GREATEST PIECE OF FILM EVER PRODUCED

There is no question that Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen is one of the greatest movies of all time.  It’s The Godfather good.  It’s Citizen Kane good.  It’s Casablanca good.  Plus, way more stuff goes “KERR-PLAAAHHHH!” than in any of those movies.  Really, the only question is: was Transformers 2 produced by man?  Or, like the great pyramids of Egypt that host the movie’s most breathtaking scene, were aliens somehow involved?  Director Michael Bay has firmly planted himself among the best directors of all time, with Coppola, Spielberg, Kubrick an…..

…..I’m sorry…I can’t do this.  It appears even the Head Troll has his limits.  I mean, seriously people??  $215 million domestic so far for a movie that re-defines the term “lowest form of entertainment?”  A movie featuring robots who fart, hump things, and have testicles?  That’s how dumb we are now?  And don’t get me started on the robots that talk “street,” can’t read, and have big, goofy ears and gold teeth.  Really America????  REALLY??  Seriously, if you thought this was a good movie, if you think Michael Bay is anything but a gigantic hack, then please don’t tell me about it.  You are all making me lose any faith I still may have had in humanity.  That is all.

DEAD: MICHAEL JACKSON, 50, AND HIS FACE, 6

While combing through the hundreds of news and entertainment websites today, we here at Troll-Blog couldn’t help but notice the various reports of Michael Jackson’s supposed death.  TMZ.com first reported that Mr(???). Jackson had died, but several other websites that report actual news said he was just in a coma.  Immediately, bloggers, along with Facebook and Twitter status updates, took to the internet-streets expressing sorrow and heartbreak over who they described as their “childhood idol” or some other glowing sentiment.  One thought, and then we’ll leave you all to grieve.  THE MICHAEL JACKSON YOU KNEW AND LOVED DIED LIKE 20 YEARS AGO.

Seriously, everyone is this upset?  What has America done over the past 15 or so years besides make fun of, or be repulsed by, Michael Jackson?  Yeah, Thriller was really great, but, ummmm…then he sort of had a face transplant, turned white, and molested several prepubescent boys and paid their parents to keep their mouths shut.  But yeah, don’t worry about all that…Thriller was great.

Not a single person reading this can honestly say they have never laughed at a plastic surgery joke made at Michael Jackson’s expense.  Hardly anyone can say they’ve never cracked a joke themselves.  Can we just take a moment to compare former Michael to current (sort of…) Michael?

Born a black man, died a white woman

That is the same person to you?  Make all the BS excuses you want about his skin bleaching health condition or whatever he said was wrong with his nose that necessitated 32 plastic surgeries, this guy turned himself into one giant freaking punchline.  And he did it to himself.

So then, Michael opens Neverland Ranch, a mansion/amusement park which was basically a gigantic spider web that he used to attract young children he intended to molest.  Story after story after story came out about the victims, young boys that Jackson had “sleep-overs” with.  He gave them wine and pornography, touched them inappropriately, and showed them what probably would win the “Grossest Penis Ever” award.  We learned about all this from that insane interview the Indian looking dude with the British accent did…the one where Michael was climbing trees, pretending to be Peter Pan, and saying that sleeping in the same bed as 10 year old boys was completely normal.  We learned that he paid the boys’ parents to keep quiet about the molestation.  We laughed about this interview for years on late night shows, Saturday Night Live, and South Park.  We were also introduced to Bubbles the chimp, and his son via a surrogate mother who was apparently named Blanket.

Blanket had to wear a mask at all times while in public for some reason, supposedly to keep his identety secret, even though every other celebrity in the history of the world has never masked their children.  In a really funny, really genius moment, he dangled a baby over a balcony with one arm to tease reporters.  The deal with the chimp?  Not really sure.  But it couldn’t have been good.

Hilarious, Michael. Really.

The point is this, people:  Michael Jackson was an immensely talented man who also happened to be a self-mutilator, pedophile, and general freak of nature.  If you want to pretend you are so, so sad to see him go, fine.  Just remember that the Michael Jackson you are now mourning died a long, long time ago.  The person who died today was not him.  The person who died today made the world a better place by doing so.

HERE’S TO YOU, TRICKED-OUT FORD FOCUS GUY

You turn up the volume on the $350 faceplate of your stereo with its remote control even though the volume knob is all of 27 inches away from your goatee’d chin and listen as the single 8 inch “sub-woofer” you recently purchased from some guy in the parking lot at the mall cranks out whatever top 40 rap beat you happen to be listening to at the time.  You would roll down the windows and scan the road for anyone checking out your sweet ride, but you still haven’t rolled them up from last time you scanned.  You can’t remember the last time they were rolled up at all, in fact.  Fine with you, however, since you like to pull up to red lights and immediately look into other cars, searching for chicks at least within 10 years of your age and yell at them through their closed windows to solicit their “digits.”  The few who actually are tricked into rolling down their windows, probably because they think you’re in some kind of trouble, are greeted with your standard, “Whats up?”  Whats up is now their window, stereo, or both.  Even if you were to get the standard answer, “Um…I’m driving” as you sometimes do, the light would undoubtedly be green by the time you got to the point in that all crucial and often awkward first conversation in which you obtain said “digits.”  You do it anyway, at every red light, rain or shine.  The going’s been tough today, but it always improves at night when your purple neon lights are more noticeable.  You have them on during the day, “just ‘cuz,” but they seem to be much more effective at night.  Something to do with the moon, you decide.  Basically right above your windshield you have a 20 inch black-light normally used to detect feline urine wired to your rear view mirror, and that’s one way you know you’re cool.  You want to turn up the music again but can’t find the remote, so you give it up.  The light turns green and you rev the Focus up, reaching at least 4000 RPMs and causing your engine that sounds like the outboard motor of a bass fishing boat due to the hole you screwed into the muffler to sputter a bit.  Bass often hear your car coming and panic, but then calm down when they realize it’s just another douche bag in a Ford Focus.  Then they freak out again when they realize they’re out of water.  You hit 55, almost top speed, and begin to wonder why the guy at Abercrombie didn’t believe you when you told him you raced and beat a ‘Vette.  “Did he know he was racing you at the time?” He asked.  Dumb question.  You’re somewhat of an expert on that, you see, if there are no girls at a red light you automatically begin to solicit other drivers to race with you until the next light, probably all of 100 yards.  You know who’s racing you and who isn’t.  Everyone you beat is racing you, and those going faster are not racing you.  You pass a heavily windowed building which allows you to see the reflection of your sweet ride as it flies along, and you admire the 14 inch “spinners” you recently purchased at Wal-Mart.  No one can tell they’re made of silver spray painted plastic when they’re spinnin’, and they’re always spinnin’, except when the car stops.  Or one gets stuck.  Or when you drive over 25 mph.  They’re so good you decide to go back next paycheck and buy two more for the rear wheels.  With all the money you’ve poured into this lost cause, you could have had a real car, but to you, it isn’t worth it if the car isn’t obnoxious.  Behind those fake Oakley’s and into your mind, you’re the king of the road.  You slow down a little when you arrive at your destination, the tool store, where you apparently were born.

BETTER WAYS TO “GO GREEN”

In these tough economic times, the globe is apparently warming and the giant republican utility companies are working to  suck the working man (plus minorities) clean.  There is a lot being made by dumb hippies and Al Gore about reducing your “carbon footprint” by using fluorescent bulbs, drinking rainwater, and hunting neighborhood cats for sustenance.  We here at Troll Blog support Mr. Gore and his Oscar-winning, coma-inducing slide shows.  Here are a few lesser known ways to soften your kick to Mother Earth’s nads.

1. SAVE WATER BY PEEING IN THE SHOWER

Did you know that each toilet flush uses 13.7 gallons of water (amount is approximate)? If you’re going to take a shower anyway, just get in there and let ‘er rip.  Even if you get urine all over you, it will just wash off immediately.  Plus, if you close your eyes, you won’t even be able to tell the difference between the urine and the water from the shower because they are about the same temperature.  Just make sure your drain is unclogged, or you may end up wading in a standing pool of water, shampoo suds, and your own liquid excrement.  By the way…ladies, there is a 99% chance every guy you know already does this.  Join the club.

2. SLASH THE TIRES OF PUBLIC BUSES.

No one uses public transportation anyway, so why bother?  You just have a giant, gas-guzzling machine with no one but a few crack-heads and prostitutes inside.  Screw them.  For every tire slashed, a polar bear gets his wings.  Or something.

3. ACT LIKE YOU GIVE A RAT’S ASS

Put on a tie-dye shirt and make a sign protesting Hummer or Boeing and walk around California impressing hipsters and liberals.  Make a slide-show featuring a song by a lesbian and win two Oscars.  Then, go home to your 16,000 square foot mansion and turn on the jacuzzi.  Pretend you aren’t a robot that runs on electricity and orphan souls.

4.  KILL A FRIEND OR NEIGHBOR

Studies have shown that if you add your energy use to your neighbor’s, then kill him/her until they have died, your combined energy use will be reduced by 50%.  Do your part.

TROLL-BLOG TWITTER

twitter.com/trollblog

Everyone is Twitter-ing these days.  Now, www.Troll-Blog.com is no exception.  Hopefully, we can one day invoke profane, racist comments directly from celebrities.  Won’t you join us, you bastard?