NASA pretty much is space. I’m not sure anyone would be able to disagree on that. Sure, there are other countries in space, but I would guess 99.99999999999999% of what we know about what’s in space is from the good ole’ US of A’s NASA program. It’s really an insane program or group or initiative or whatever it is. I mean they laid claim to the Moon for the United States. That may have been the most peaceful taking of land ever and not only land, but an entire land entity akin to a planet that circles Earth way above in the sky known as space. Can you think of another country that owns land anywhere else in the vast expanse of space? I can’t. USA has the damn Moon. It’s ours! And ever since we landed on the thing we’ve talked about putting hotels up there for tourists to visit. Space hotels!

I think I’m getting ahead of myself. Landing on the Moon and laying claim to it with a flag like a cartoon Christopher Columbus is one of many accomplishments that NASA has… accomplished. I was looking through LIFE.com and looking at a picture gallery with all the many patches they have had for all the many incredible projects they have attempted. Some were more successful than others, but it showed what a rich and diverse set of moments in history NASA has been apart of or have tried to and failed.

NASA has done so much more than send a rocket into space and land on the Moon. They’ve tried to achieve so much more. And after looking at these patches, they also tried to do most of these missions crazy high. That’s right, high. NASA smokes space weed. I’ll get to that later, but it becomes readily apparent as one views the patches. That shiz gets you F’d up. I hope after you finish reading this, you see that NASA is a special group of people who are dreamers, adventurers, and crazy high. Precautionary tale high.

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Well, here is the start of it. As you can see plainly, NASA sent the great Eagle to the Moon to secure the space weed with its mighty talons. It is right there on the patch. I mean what else could it be. It was a 100% successful mission. See, NASA has big ass Eagles. I have to write Eagle with a capital E because they’re so badass they fly into space and grab the weed that grows on the Moon. Anyway, the Eagles are very similar to the deux ex machina Eagles in Lord of the Rings. Hey Gandalf, how the fuck are you going to get off that tower before Saruman kills you? Oh don’t worry, there are some big ass Eagles that haven’t been mentioned nor will ever be explained over the course of these 3 films that are going to come swoop in and save me and then they’re going to take a detour over to NASA and get their mission pack and some Gatorade and then fly off to the Moon to get us some of that stick icky that grows in space!

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This is not the first or last of a long list of unsuccessful missions involving a magic pirate ship in space. I’m not sure of who it was in particular, but some big wig in NASA loved old wooden ships with big sails and so forth. He was one of those whackos who makes them in bottles. There is more likely of a chance you’ll get struck by lightning than ever meet someone whose hobby it is to make ships in bottles. Anyway, they got it in their head they could send one of these ships out into space and propel it by magic and rockets. Most of these horribly unsuccessful missions had the theory if we could just get it up there then everything should be fine. Well, it never was fine. A lot of money lost and a lot of lives cut short by the alluring idea of a pirate ship in space.

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This was the surprisingly successful skywriting campaign of Mercury 6 where they wrote “friendship 7″ over United States. It was more or less a gross misuse of power for one of the NASA pilots to help his daughter win a contest in her Elementary school. Who could make the biggest show of “friendship”? Well, Astronaut Glenn clearly took to this literally and decided that this would be a great decision to write the word “friendship 7″ over the continental United States. The 7 was never explained and remains a mystery to this day, but that little girl won that damn contest. A few of the other parents tried to get her disqualified for not having done the majority of the project herself, but NASA knew better than that. That’s why Glenn’s daughter was specially made an honorary astronaut that day and flew part of the mission with her father. Was it dangerous to have a 10 year old fly a space ship? Sure was, but you should’ve seen the smile on her face.

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This was an unsuccessful mission. Very unsuccessful mission. It had little promise to be successful, but there was great enthusiasm for the project even though there was absolutely no scientific research to back up the claim that this could be accomplished. NASA developed a giant vacuum and was going to suck the state of Florida into it wiping it off the map entirely. Clearly, it did not work, but they did try.

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This mission was code named “Let’s Get the Fuck Out of Here There is a Comet Going to Destroy Earth!” There hasn’t been a comet to destroy Earth, but NASA ran some field ops to see if they were ready to get everyone up and out of the office and into a spaceship and off the planet if they were given only 10 minutes notification. It was a rush job every time plain and simple and that’s why they are flying with all the doors open on the space ship. Just get off the planet before that comet we didn’t notice until the last minute comes hurtling towards Earth and kills us all.

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This was a great day. Just a truly great day. There’s no video tape to support the claims, but the men and women involved in the mission believe without a shadow of a doubt that it happened and happened perfectly. NASA successfully launched 3 mythical golden horses into space and sent them to the Moon. To be perfectly honest, they pretty much were having a space weed Olympics that morning and no one knows for sure what happened that afternoon, evening, and into the next morning. But when you talk to those NASA engineers, the tears in their eyes when they talk about those golden horses and them galloping in space. How can you not believe?!

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This was kind of a weekend project that was more of a morale booster than anything else. Do you remember the 1983 movie WarGames? Well, pretty much everyone in NASA saw it the opening weekend and was just in love with it. Who wasn’t? It was a great movie featuring a young Matthew Broderick. There was just a lot of negative Nancy-ing going on in the NASA offices that year, but everyone was really rallying behind how much they enjoyed WarGames, so NASA put on a stage production of WarGames. It ran for 16 weeks and was loved by critics. It was nominated for several Tony awards, but didn’t win any. All those awards shows are politics anyway.

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One of the most successful NASA missions that did not involve physically going into space. It was a design contest for the right bowl to be used to smoke the space weed. This was the design that won and the winner got an all expense paid trip to Seoul, South Korea where they got to debut the space weed chillum and smoke it with the Koreans. They all got high as fuck. I think you can guess that much.

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Following the success of the official space weed pipe creating contest, NASA developed a vaporizer for the space weed. It was called “First Spacewalk” because when you take a hit off this vaporizer you’re so high you feel like you’re walking in space. So, that was insanely successful. Being the NASA employees they are it is more or less official policy if you’re hitting the space weed vaporizer that you have to wear the space suit. Plus you usually fall and bump into things that’s how high you get.

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Another pirate ship idea, but this one is a little different – the concept was to build a big ass pirate ship and launch a space shuttle from the back of it. It failed miserably in every stage of this project. All of these people were fired once the project was given up on.

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This is the commemorative badge regarding the first time NASA had its astronauts drop acid in space. It really wasn’t a logistical mission. They just got up there, put everything on auto-pilot, set the in-flight cameras to record and then they dropped acid. From the reports, it was equally the greatest and worst experience of their lives.

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NASA made about the biggest space weed vaporizer you can imagine, set it into space and had the astronauts “spacewalk” while actually space walking. This project was kind of the beginning of there are no limits to what NASA will do with the space weed in space. It was like the “Cape of Good Hope”, but in space. Some feared spacewalking while spacewalking would lead to the time space continuum collapsing on itself. Others just thought you would get crazy high. The latter were correct. From there, there was no stopping NASA’s imagination.

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Immediately following the previous mission, NASA installed a permanent giant chillum in space for astronauts or aliens to come and smoke their giant space weed peace pipe in space. It gets you fucked up.

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This is just a space shuttle patch, but I just wanted to put this in here because I think it is very phallic and was curious what the rest of you thought. Phallic? I feel like NASA is telling us they have big dicks because they shoot rockets and been on the Moon and send Eagles to retrieve space weed and no one else does anything like this stuff.

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Yes, there is magic. And yes, NASA has it. This patch was really a how far can we go on a half rocket, half magic run space shuttle. It went just as far as what they were doing already. So it was successful. Rocket fuel is pretty damn combustible and magic is as well. They’re about the same.

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This was another big morale booster mission for the NASA people. They flew with the Autobots in space. That was really the long and short of it. It is like the equivalent of a celebrity basketball game, the NASA crew got to work on a space flight mission where they would get to race an Autobot. The good guy Transformer won, but everyone had a good time and it really made everyone’s month. Following the mission there was all you can eat buffet at the nearest Red Lobster as well as an open bar. Transformers, space races, shrimp scampi and a few rum and cokes, what more can a NASA worker ask for?

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Arguably, the least successful mission in NASA history. Another damn pirate ship mission. This time the idea was to create the universes biggest space ship/pirate ship amusement park ride in space. Besides the building of hotels and so forth on the Moon, there became the idea of other tourist traps that could be created in space. The idea began circulating to build an amusement park in space. Then the pirate ship came into it. Pirate ships are usually involved in amusement parks and so are space ships. You know those rides where you get on one of them and it swings up the one way and then comes back the other way like an upside down metronome? Well, that was the plan. In no way was there ever a successful moment of this venture – about the only thing that actually worked was the sewing of this patch. It was a very divisive and many were fired and many quit over it.

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Pretty simple task – get more space weed. Send the Eagle, send an empty space shuttle. Fill that shit up with as much as you can carry and bring it home to daddy. That’s about it. It went swimmingly. Those Eagles have a nose for that weed and they just led the ship straight there. Kind of became a regular part of the NASA budget were these types of missions.

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It was only for a weekend, but NASA did take the Statue of Liberty into space. It was a prank on then New York City Mayor Ed Koch. No one is exactly certain why they did it, but they did. It worked. Just shot a rocket into space, cables were attached to it and the Statue of Liberty, hauled it up into space, let the Statue of Liberty free, took a couple victory laps around the Earth, took a few pictures, hitched up the Statue of Liberty to the ship and brought her home – no harm no foul. Pranks.

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This was the last of the pirate ship missions. After this, that NASA big wig was forced to retire. His dream was never realized. Over a dozen of unsuccessful missions involving a wooden ship fueled by magic and rockets being sent into space to sail around the planets in the solar system. It was always a pipe dream. There is literally an untold amount of billions of dollars spent on making this a reality. It never worked. They tried. Oh boy did they try, but it never worked. They told him they would put the idea on a back burner, but he died of heart failure several years into his retirement. He never got to see his dream come true. His boy hood fantasy of an actual ship sailing through the uncharted dark waters of space. Kind of breaks your heart.

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“Hands Across America”. Huge success. Wasn’t really all that difficult.

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To put it simply, yes there are aliens. Every so often we meet up with the aliens in space and beam them TV and movies and porn and the like. They’re an advanced species, a much more advanced species, but they have no entertainment. They have laser cannons that can blow a hole through the Earth the size of Texas, but they have no sitcoms or hour long dramas or porn. They love porn, but who doesn’t? Anyway, it keeps them from killing our civilization. They were big fans of Arrested Development and almost killed us all over the cancelling of it. But we assured them there would be a movie made eventually. Hopefully, Hurwtiz et al can pull that off for the survival of the human existence.

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Phallic right? I’m not the only seeing this right? It just looks really phallic to me.

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Finally, this is our secret space marines patch. Pretty much if you’re an alien and you see this patch it means your alien ass. They are a blood thirsty bunch. Outside of those aliens we give porn to, we’re kind of the smartest bunch of living things in the universe and we kind of are big dick bullies just kicking around aliens on other planets. No surprise. We kind of rule.

Anyway, thank you NASA for all that you’ve done and that you continue to do.

I hope this gave you a greater appreciation for the men and women of our NASA community.

Any questions for Friday?

She wants IT.

Let’s actually look back on this week:

Monday – I talked about my Halloween festivities

Tuesday – I talked about celebrities’ Halloween festivities

Wednesday – We rejoiced in a traumatic experience of a foreign born child being attacked by a rogue ostrich only to lead to the inevitable conclusion of the foreign born father of said foreign born child going all UFC and head kicking the ostrich.

Thursday – I wished a happy birthday to everyone in existence who was born on yesterday’s date, which currently eludes my brain.

Friday – I saw Kat Dennings naked and all was right in this world.

I’m not sure if I’m able to post nude pictures on this site or link to nude pictures on this site, so…

There is a website called “Deadspin” and they have the pictures. And/or type in “Kat Dennings naked” into your trusty search engine who reserves no judgments on you and what you do with your time. I suggest Deadspin because they also have seemingly nude pictures of Jessica Alba as well.

If you don’t know who Kat Dennings is then let me give you a refresher…

Have you seen 40 Year Old Virgin? Do you remember that Catherine Keener’s character has a teenage daughter? Did you ever think to yourself while watching that movie and said daughter appeared on screen and you thought to yourself, “Wow, Catherine Keener’s fictional daughter has some really big boobs”? That’s Kat Dennings.

Here’s another scenario:

Have you seen Nick + Norah’s Infinite Playlist? Yeah, me neither. But do you remember a trailer or a poster from that movie? Do you remember thinking to yourself that if Michael Cera is “Nick” then “Norah” has some big ass boobs? That’s Kat Dennings.

Not to take away from Kat Dennings and her comedic abilities and her amiable personality because I have seen a couple of her movies and some of her youtube videos and she seems like a lovely 24 year old Philly native. But when nudity is available one does not prescribe to offering people pictures of comedic abilities or amiable personalities nude. They give you a tease of what you are going to see. And in this case… well… she looks… excellent… naked… from the waist up. We don’t see waist down mind you. I’m sure that is excellent as well. You do see her legs, but they’re really not the focus of the picture.

I have a theory that those boobs periodically can take over Kat Dennings’ whole body and force her to move in mysterious ways like take pictures of them when her shirt is mysteriously off.

I love the internet.

I love it so much.

I feel like they should declare today a holiday because of these pictures. It doesn’t have to be a federal holiday. It could be state by state. People vote on it. If your state does not recognize it as a holiday then your state simply is Un-American and doesn’t support the troops. And by “troops” I mean both our American military and their efforts in foreign countries trying to stop the spread of terrorism meanwhile offering hopefully a better life with America’s assistance… and Kat Dennings wonderful boobs. That’s the other set of troops.

Maybe everyone gets a half day from work. I’m not saying the Stock Market has to close or anything. Maybe a moment of silence while everyone stares at the pictures via smartphone, lap top, overhead projector on a blank chalkboard. It is up to you how to celebrate this day. I’m not forcing anything besides a mutual moment of reflection.

Nothing religious, but if a church or synagogue or a temple of any sort wants to recognize that these boobs are in fact the flawless creation of the Divine then I will not stop them. I welcome it. If a preacher wants to make a joke that also has a hint of truth in it like, “And on the 8th day, God made Kat Dennings’ boobs”. Then that is up to them. It is fair use, in my opinion. Of course, I wouldn’t mind a little recognition. If someone does come over to said preacher and is like “that was pretty clever” then said preacher can say, “actually, it was this guy Jordan who has a website…” and so on and so forth until the person becomes a regular commenter.

Should McDonalds make a Happy Meal toy commemorating this day? I’m not against that idea in the least bit. I applaud that type of thinking.

Does Six Flags need to make a roller coaster ride for these boobs like their Batman or Batman and Robin ride? Maybe. I hope so. I hope for a lot of things though. I hope for a world where there is no war. I hope to climb a mountain and release a bald eagle at the top of it that I had nursed back to health. I hope that the script for Deadpool that I’m reading gets better. I hope that I’ll learn a second language and move to a country that speaks that second language and then I will walk that land settling disputes in their language. I hope to earn a nickname from that country’s locals that will sound simple from the outside, but if you knew the true story it will speak volumes about my strength and character. I hope for a college football playoff system. I hope for an end of disease. I hope Saturday Night Live becomes even remotely funny again. I hope for muffins.

And with that… there were no questions this week as far as I noticed.

Kristen Stewart wants IT so bad she blurs pictures.

Have a great weekend!

And I need a weekend to recover from my weekend! I have no problems or qualms or guilt saying that I had an amazing weekend. I know there is a trend in this world to play low key on your weekend activities or your free time activities to not rub it in the face of others who were not there or not having as much fun. But fuck that and fuck you for not having as much fun because I clearly laid out where the fun was happening and whom with, so you are to be blamed for your unfunness.

Friday night was epic. There was a merriment and an arousing jovial nature to the empathetic drinking as if we were soldiers returning from the front lines of battle after reconquering Nazi occupied France. We drank most heavily. We drank heavy beers. We drank heavy beers in heavy glasses. We were at the Zeppelin Hall in Jersey City. The infamous beer garden of Jersey City! What I enjoy about the beer garden, the Zeppelin Hall, is that it would take an army of moral fervor to stop oneself from getting annihilated, “I need to be carried”, “it should be illegal and probably is to be this drunk” drunk. Why? Because they have –

BEER STEINS!

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Everyone loves a ginormous beer stein glass thing. I know there are people who will say “well I don’t like beer” – WHEN IN ROME! WHEN IN ROME! So, you drink from these heavy glasses and you drink from them with ear-to-ear smiles because this is not once a year in far off distant formerly SS controlled Germania – this is NEW JERSEY and it is APRIL!

We drank there. There was a bartendress named Maria who thought we were insane. I’m not saying she is wrong, but that is what she thought. Why did she think we were insane? It was from 1 of 3 possibilities:

1. The constant singing of “Down in the treme… with me and my baby… we’re all going crazy… just jumping up and having fun!” That is what I believe to be the theme song for HBO’s wonderful program Treme. If you hear that song a few times then it gets stuck forever. Once it is stuck forever, begin cultivating your Louis Armstrong-esque guttural molasses and ribs and bourbon and filter-less cigarettes brogue. Then inject yourself into a public place with like minded people and a nearly endless supply of booze and begin your own recital dedicated to the charm of New Orleans.

2. Watching the Miami Heat vs. the Boston Celtics game, we penned a cock rock song for Michael Beasley set to the tune of “Hot Blooded” by Foreigner. True or not – we believed his nickname was “Sweat Beas”. So, we wrote a song about it. “Sweet Beas! Smokin’ trees! Sweet Beas! Defends democracy! Sweet Beas! Making chicks bleed! Sweet Beas! Hates hypocrisy! Sweet Beas! He never says please! Sweet Beas! Failed the SATs! (or not)” And so on.

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3. There was yelling, screaming and jumping toe touches.

Or all of those things made her think we were insane. And this was Friday night.

Meanwhile, if one remembers, I wrote a post on Friday. Besides being informative, though provoking, funny, and filled with MS-Paint doctored Tom Cruise holding a banana photos, the post also mentioned where I would be Saturday night. I was at a concert at a bar in Hoboken featuring two friends’ bands.

I can only assume none of you braggadocios keyboard warrioresses who type the type about walking the walk, but when it comes to doing the walking that they were typing about they don’t walk the type walk — I’m not really sure where this metaphor is going. I was not sexually harassed on Saturday night. Well, I was not sexually harassed by anyone outside of my friends from college. So, I can only assume vis a vis a priori a posterori eg ie et cetera that none of you went to Hoboken and went to the concert. This means you missed out on an amazingly fun evening with excellent music, excellent people and several liquids that had been fermented earlier to be alcoholic.

As mentioned in Friday’s post, the two bands were Capita Clip and Birthwater. Here is a video of Birthwater playing their song “Bunker”. Thanks to whoever shot this video. I was supposed to be bring my camera and shoot some video, but I fucked up and forgot it. Great story.

I haven’t seen any footage of Capita Clip from Saturday, but here is a link to their Myspace page – http://www.myspace.com/capitaclip – I hadn’t been to a Myspace page since my flirtations with NBC’s To Catch a Predator, but it is still going strong.

So there were some great times Saturday and Friday. Sunday was rough for different reasons. And now here I am today – not hungover or drunk for the first time in a few days. I feel worn out and tired and coffee is really not helping – just making me jittery. But, I already know the cure for hangovers. I know it. And you should know it.

BOOBS!

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Yes! Boobs cure everything!

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=116336578385346

http://www.blaghag.com/2010/04/in-name-of-science-i-offer-my-boobs.html

A fellow reader of yours was very nice enough to send me this event entitled “Boobquake” on Facebook. I will say this, I will page through all 300+ pictures throughout today. I suggest that if you are a Facebooker that you join me on this venture of cleavage pictures. I also suggest that if you are an owner of boobs that you should take pictures in support of “Boobquake” and either upload them to this website with a corresponding link or just send me the pictures knowing that it will cheer me up after assembling one BILLION boxes.

I also also suggest you JOIN THE MOTHERFUCKING KSWI FAN PAGE!

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=logo#!/pages/Kristen-Stewart-wants-IT/199326110886

Seriously, why not? As far as I have been told it helps lower your blood pressure and your LDL cholestrol levels. So, join it. It was also also also very nicely assembled by a fellow reader with her own tiny hands. I imagine everyone on the internet is tiny including you reading this. You all exist an inch from me inside my computer screen conspiring and organizing like an ant farm of biting wit and pop-cultural references. You all have individual miniscule laptops which you type away on.

I might as well throw a link to the twitter account as well, which I started because of you people. http://www.twitter.com/jordan_is_ok - although at this point, all I receive are messages telling me to follow them on twitter which seems like there was an alterior motive to why I was pushed into joining twitter – to pad their follower stats. You monitor inhabitants are tricky.

I hope you all had a great weekend. I enjoyed mine thoroughly. Now I’m tired. I am also about to get back into the box making and filling* circuit right now. I will talk later this week about what may/will happen with KSWI in the following weeks. It will involve opportunities for guest bloggers. I know you all will be excited for that being the selfish little people you are inside my computer monitor.

What to write about? What to write about? What to write about? What to write about? Indeed, this is quite the quandary. I have several ideas floating around my head. I have ideas that I think will be enough to fill a page, but not upwards of 4 to 6. I could try to stretch those ideas. I could stretch them out like a ball of silly putty. Grab two handfuls on either side and pull in opposite directions. Two thick masses at the end and paper thin in the middle. I could stretch one idea that was only meant for a paragraph or two until its breaking point, so I’ll be left with a rich beginning and end, but a great big bridgeless chasm in the middle. That is tempting.

Tempting like Gail Simmons’ cleavage tempting. I watch Top Chef occasionally. I did not start watching it until the third or fourth season. The show is good. I was sold on the show by three individuals: Padma Lakshmi, Tom Colicchio, and, the aforementioned, Gail Simmons. The contestants I find all very forgettable and I wouldn’t eat most of these dishes they make. I am a simple eater: meat and potatoes. I do not need “grape reductions” or “foie gras” or “fennel”. I did not know what “fennel” was prior to watching Top Chef and I’m still a little sketchy on what it is now. Nevertheless, if I’ve learned anything from Top Chef (minus the rant about boobs that will follow this paragraph) it is that “fennel” is appropriate in EVERY CONCEIVABLE THING YOU MOTHERFUCKING COOK EVER! Who knew? But they all use it in everything.

Back to the holy trinity of Padma, Colicchio and Gail. Let’s leave Colicchio until the end shall we. “Boobs first, New Jersey second.” That’s my saying and I’m sticking to it. I had never heard of Padma or Gail before watching this show. I now know way too much about Padma. I know about her childhood and how/where she got that scar on her arm. I know about her and Salman Rushdie. I know about her sexual “daddy” issues. And I’m a better man for it. I don’t know too much about Gail. I know she is married. That’s about it. Her background was not nearly as exotic as Padma’s. So what about Padma?

SHE’S FUCKING GORGEOUS! That is an understatement. Padma is an exceptionally attractive woman. Amazing body, amazing face, amazing skin and she’s a model so her posing is perfection. Also, she apparently has a discernable palate. I’m pretty sure I remember her having no background in cooking or food preparation. Her background is she’s so effing hot that she has been taken to all the greatest and most expensive restaurants in the world by insanely wealthy men. She may have never braised any short ribs* herself, but she has eaten braised short ribs in over half the countries of the world and at their most famous restaurants no less. Padma is a great host because her sheer hotness has an authority to it. You take what she says as truth because her gold aura tells you so. You take her words as law because you want to succumb to her raven haired glory.

When looking at Padma I feel like I am not looking at a false golden calf idol, but instead I am looking at how God intended us all to look if he had just been given 2 weeks instead of 1 to make the world and if places like McDonald’s and Mrs. Fields didn’t exist. Padma’s beauty spreads warmth through a room like a space heater. It is a pleasant and religious experience gazing upon Padma. Where as Padma’s looks are brain melting as a whole, Gail Simmons’ breasts make me want to chew concrete. Gail and her cleavage make me furious. 

Simply, I just want to grab them. And other things, but first “grab”. Gail is mocking me with her cleavage. She is mocking us all, but there are women out there who have beautiful cleavage of their own. As we all know, the best way to fight fire is with more fire. Additionally, I have seen that one must take their own fire and press it hard and rub it against thoroughly the original fire. And videotape it. Or at least take enough pictures where I can put them in a Gif file and create the movement that way. And send it to me. That last part is necessary as well. I’m saying that you should get all cleavagey (send me the pictures for approval) then track down Gail and her cleavage and then make the cleavages do battle.

When Padma and Gail talk I have no idea what they are saying. They speak English and Padma’s voice actually sounds quite melodious, but I can’t hear a fucking word they are saying because of extenuating circumstances. For Padma, her beauty is white noise. The physical sight of her is so powerful that it also transmutates (real word because I said it) sonically and destroys any other audio. For Gail, my constant inner-monologue angry mumbling of “I just want to fucking grab those things” drowns out whatever she is saying. My love for Gail and her rack should not lead you to the following conclusions: 1. I do not notice Padma’s rack and 2. I do not notice the rest of Gail. In total, Gail is a good looking woman, but not talking about her breasts above all would be like talking of the Indianapolis Colts’ undefeated season thus far and failing to mention that Peyton Manning is leading that team. Sure the Colts are a good team. Their defense is fast and sack happy (much like you cock teases – operation find and what? You know what city I live in) and they have quite the range of All Pro level talent on offense like Dallas Clark and Reggie Wayne. BUT THAT CLEAVAGE! BUT PEYTON MANNING! And the former, Padma’s got some amazing boobs of her own and they are getting bigger. 

Boobs, check. New Jersey? Tom Colicchio is the man. Much like “fennel”, I had no idea who Tom Colicchio was before Top Chef and now I really want to meet him, I don’t want any “fennel” though. I don’t even care about eating his food. I’ve looked over the menus for his restaurants and it seems great and all, but I want to meet him because of his disposition. First, he is from Jersey which is a plus. I just have to mention that as much as possible, I’m legally obligated to do so as a Jersey resident. His “disposition”! Tom Colicchio is a grruff dude. He is grruff like the odd facial stubble soul patch he is rocking this season. He is grruff like the double rr’s I use when I write grruff which should be rolled as si eso es en Español. Tom Colicchio has disdain for these competitors.

One of the greatest treats on Top Chef is Colicchio’s reactions to the explanations by a contestant. During the final judgment, the contestants have an opportunity to rationalize why they have fucked up making creme brulee or why their chicken was undercooked. Usually, the chefs give horrendous excuses. And that is just how Colicchio sees it: “excuses”. They’ve messed up. Their soup was too thin, their duck was too salty, their vegetables were over cooked and their strip steak was so rare it was still mooing. Why? Because they suck! They are not professionals, they’re stupid and they’ve messed up! They didn’t budget their time appropriately because they’re idiots! They think eggs are supposed to be runny because they’re morons!

Colicchio – “You made a salad to go with your filet. The lettuce in the salad was not crunchy and appeared lifeless. Why is that?”

Contestant – “I didn’t spend enough time in the grocery store looking for the right lettuce because I was too busy with the butcher getting the filets cut just right.”

Colicchio stares a hole through the contestant saying with his eyes, “You are a simpleton and your steak wasn’t any good either.”

Colicchio doesn’t have much to work with because they usually give half assed responses like the above. These people are there not because they can wax poetically or because they have any oratory skills at all. They are there because they can make a Bolognese sauce while standing on their head in less than 10 minutes with Colicchio, Padma and Gail’s plunging neck line staring them down.

What does this have to do with Kristen Stewart?

Absolutely nothing, yet again! So do they want it? Does Padma and her flawless physical appearance want it? Does Gail and her juggs want it? Does Colicchio and his scornful looks want it? Can Kristen Stewart cook? Is Kristen Stewart a vegetarian? Are the New Jersey Nets the worst team in NBA history? Am I working on a couple creative projects outside of daily blogs for y’all that you may or may not be interested in?

Kind of. Sometimes and yes if you are an older strict man. She doesn’t, but they do. Not really and no. Probably not or at least I wouldn’t trust her to. I’m curious if she is a vegetarian or if she eats food at all. Yes, they are the worst team ever. I’m actually working on two projects: drawing and writing something else.

You all seem pretty full of yourselves and each other lately, so I don’t know if you even care. Demanding in the comments section without giving me anything in return. Oh show us your dick or write about this or whatever. What do I get in return? Oh I hope he gets mad and scolds us. Great present. This symbiotic relationship is completely out of whack. You’re such a great writer and you make us laugh everyday so to say thank you we’ll tease you to see if you’ll get riled up to yell at us in text tomorrow. I’m a big man bear who is pestered by little girl bears who are hungry. I spot a beehive in a tree. I reach up and grab at the beehive. Even though my thick fur cannot be penetrated by the bee stings, my face is still susceptible, but I fight on regardless. I defeat the bees and break open the hive. I offer you all the delicious honey combs to eat. You do eat them and in return: you poke me with a stick and run away laughing.

So yes, there may or may not be drawings for you next week and later this month if I finish it there will be a piece of original material that may or may not change your lives forever. Bears need hugs. Or metaphorical ones do. Not real bears. They kill people who hug.

Padma’s want is directed at three things: the camera, well crafted food, and men who resemble her father. Padma has an excellent amount of want for these three things in particular, but little else outside of that. She is a model so she knows how to look sexy as shit eating a Carl’s Jr. burger like in the earlier video clip and how to look like she wants it while on the red carpet. Padma feeds on only the best designed cuisines and/or the most well intentioned attempts by these Top Chef contestants. And she admits to having “daddy issues” and her time with Rushdie was the zenith of that. I think more than anything, Padma is gorgeous and she knows it so she allows herself to radiate this beauty because others can want her and be nurtured by it. Padma’s want is giving like Mother Earth. Kristen Stewart’s want is more like the rocks, flint, tinder, sparks, fire, light et cetera. Kristen Stewart’s want is the inspiration to create fire and the power it wields. Padma’s is the heat of the fire that keeps you warm through the night.

Gail’s want has been focused and sharpened to a fine point like a tip of a spear or the edge of a blade. Except her edge and tip are two massive fatty lumps that sit high on her chest that we would all love to squeeze and rest our head on like pillows with a heartbeat. She generally doesn’t seem to want it. But the cleavage always wants it. Kristen Stewart’s primary want weapon is her eyes. She certainly shows her want with the lip biting and so forth, but her eyes are the primary weapons. Kristen Stewart’s want is like the American military. She has the army, the navy, air force and even the coast guard. But her eyes are the marines and they go first. Gail’s weaponry is more like a suicide terrorist – no gun, no training, no help, but she’s got a set of bombs on her that will make you explode… kind of clever, right? I give it a 7/10. Her breasts 10/10.

Colicchio’s want is for these dumb ass contestants to stop wasting his fucking time. This man didn’t use a reality show to jump start his career. He is a chef. He makes food, people love it, and he is rich because of it. These buffoons who show up week in and week out before him forget to use salt and pepper on their entrees and because of this he has wasted another hour on this Earth eating their food. Colicchio wants good food that was thoughtfully prepared. That’s it. He doesn’t want flash or experimental dishes. He just wants it to taste the way it should and move on. Kristen? Like I said, I don’t know if she is a vegetarian or if she eats food at all. She may only survive on the particles in the air and water…. and weed. Her want is much greater than Colicchio’s so there really is no reason to compare. Colicchio seems to be a pretty satisfied guy outside of the time he spends eating some shitty fish tacos a contestant made. He is rich, he has many restaurants, he knows how to feed himself extraordinarily well, he has the confidence to be a bald man as well as grow facial hair that looks completely ridiculous and he is from Jersey so he has that going for him also.

So they don’t want it as much as Kristen Stewart. Nevertheless, the second part of the Top Chef season finale is next week. I don’t think the younger brother is going to win. I think the older brother and the bearded guy have a better shot because they will make something simple instead of wowing the judges with something elaborate. So I like the show. I am stunned by how hot Padma is each and every time I see her. I am stunned that no one has just reached out and squeezed the shit out of Gail’s boobs. They have plenty of women and gay men on that show and it is always perfectly and legally fine if they grab a woman seemingly anywhere or at least that is what television and bars have led me to believe. And I’m stunned that Colicchio hasn’t punched someone for fucking up an eggs Benedict. All my focus when I watch this show is on those three and little else. At the end of every episode, I feel as if everything has been wiped from my brain and all I remember is I love Padma and Gail and Colicchio, but I couldn’t tell you what happened that episode that differentiates it from the last one.

Questions and comments for tomorrow’s weekly rap up should be left in the comments section or emailed to me along with cleavage pictures.

Now I’m starving from writing about food.

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