All posts by Matthew Callan

Boob Tubery

If You Have a Heart-Tugging Infirmity, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition Wants You!

typennington.jpgThanks for tuning in to this week’s edition Extreme Makeover: Home Edition . Boy, that sure was an inspiring story. I bet that little girl’s plucky
battle against diabetes, arthritis, and attention deficit disorder totally made you feel like crap. If so, we’re always looking for needy families to help out. If you think you fit the bill, drop us a line or send us an email.

But don’t bother to contact us if you’re just poor. We don’t build houses for people just because they can’t afford them. Who do you think we are, Jimmy Carter? We can’t build an hour-long narrative around poverty! Plus, you probably deserve to be homeless anyway.

We’re looking for families full of heart-tugging tragedy. But make sure you haven’t lost your upbeat spirit. We don’t put people on TV who are all mopey just because they’ve been struck with a fatal disease.

Cancer’s good. Leukemia’s even better, ’cause it sounds scary. If you have cancer and are a veteran, that’s great; not a Vietnam vet, though, ’cause we assume they’re all drug addicts. If you have a child with a disease that confines him or her to a wheelchair, that’s fantastic, especially if the wheelchair has wacky flags and bumper stickers all over it.

You know what’d be great? If we had recently separated Siamese twins! Yeah, and then we’d totally have to build more rooms, ’cause it’s like the family just got a new kid. Hey, one of you interns, call up all the hospitals in the state. See if there’s any recently conjoined twins out there! C’mon, let’s make this happen!

Oh, and while you’re at it, call up the maternity wards and see if there’s been any kids who were born with a major organ on the outside of their bodies. That shit would be gold!

We’d also like to ask people to stop trying to acquire debilitating illnesses in order to get on the show. We’ve received reports of people ingesting mercury in the hopes of acquiring a neurological disease. We don’t tolerate cheaters on Extreme Makeover , folks. You’ll just have to pray and hope the Good Lord sees fit to blight you with a horrible medical condition.

Next week, we build a house for family with a little boy so sick that just hearing about his disease could kill you!

Politics Schmolitics

Hillary Clinton: To Be Young, Campaigning, and Black

hilbot.jpgIt’s unfortunate that my esteemed opponent, Barack Obama, is trying to make race an issue in this campaign. Every time I accuse him of making race an issue, he brings up race! It’s almost as
if he’s defensive about the whole race thing.

I’m used to these types of reactions. There are people in this world who see me and think that I can’t be President. Well, I have never listened to what the naysayers said, and I am here to tell America that yes, a
black woman can be President.

Maybe the thought of a black woman President scares Senator Obama. Maybe he thinks our place is in the kitchen–the black kitchen. But as a famous black singer whose name escapes me once said, “I will survive as a black woman candidate.”

My husband was proud to be our nation’s first black President. He had a hard road to walk, like so many of our black forefathers. But he walked that road, with his own two black feet, and I am ready to walk that black, black path he forged for me–for all of us!

And by “us”, I mean all of us black people.

Of course, it’s not just Senator Obama who oppresses us. At times, we are our own worst black enemy. There are some who say I’m not “black” enough, that I’m an “Uncle Tom”. This is nothing new for me. When I left the tough streets of my black, inner city, black neighborhood, there were people who said I was turning my back on my black ‘hood.

I didn’t listen, because I knew that my black achievements could reflect well on my black roots, and allow me to one day give back to the black community that gave so much to my black self. And I say that now is not the time for black divisiveness. This is a time for black unity. With that unity, we should all come together blackly for one common black
goal.

And that goal should be to elect me, the only true black candidate, no matter what Barack “Simon Legree” Obama might say.

I don’t get angry at people like Senator Obama, because deep down, they’re afraid–afraid of our blackness. To their fear, I counter with my black hope. To their anger, I counter with my black love. To their hate, I counter with my black friendship.

So say it loud, people: we’re black and we’re black proud!

Wow, this outpouring of affection from you supporters is enough to make me shed a single, black tear of black emotion.

Boob Tubery, Fashion

What Not to Wear and the Final Solution for Fashion

whatnot1.jpgGod, look at this girl!
whatnot2.jpgAre you sure it’s a girl? She looks more like the love child of Margaret Thatcher and a month-old jack-o-lantern!
whatnot1.jpgHer fashion sense is on life support, and I’d love to pull the plug on it!
whatnot2.jpgI’d like to pull the plug on her ! Look at that huge ass! That thing’s got its own zip code!
whatnot1.jpgWhere’d she get those pants, Old Gravy?
whatnot2.jpgIf I had to wear outfits like hers, I’d pop a cyanide capsule straight into my mouth.
whatnot1.jpgExcept if you were her, you couldn’t fit it because there’d be too many Ring Dings in the way!
whatnot2.jpgHer whole look makes me want to vomit, but I’m afraid if I did, she’d lap it up like the dog she is!
whatnot1.jpgRuff ruff! Forget the makeover, we should just put her to sleep! How would you put Ol’ Smeller down?
whatnot2.jpgI’d slit her throat, but I think butter would come out instead of blood!
whatnot1.jpgI’d shoot her, but the bullet might just get lost in all her fat folds!
whatnot2.jpgMaybe if we wait, nature will take its course, and she’ll go out choking on a ham sandwich, Mama Cass-style.
whatnot1.jpgGod, I hate women!
whatnot2.jpgGod, me too!
whatnot1.jpgNot all women, of course. Just the poor ones.
whatnot2.jpgOh God, I hate poor women. Don’t they know dry-clean only clothes just look better?
whatnot1.jpgI know, right? Fat women drive me nuts, too. If
you can’t stop stuffing your face, just get some liposuction, or stay
indoors! You’re blocking the sun for the rest of us!
whatnot2.jpgIf I could, I would so round up all the
fat and poor women in America. Herd them into the same neighborhoods,
make them wear patches on their tacky outfits so we can keep track of
them…
whatnot1.jpgYeah! Then I’d send them off to special camps in
the country, where they would totally work 18 hours a day for no pay!
That’ll teach ’em!
whatnot2.jpgThen when they’re too weak to work anymore, we can execute them all!
whatnot1.jpgBut why waste precious bullets on them? Just round them up in gas chambers and choke them to death! It’s more efficient!
whatnot2.jpgYou’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?
whatnot1.jpgOh my God, every waking moment!
whatnot2.jpgIt’s fun to dream, huh?
whatnot1.jpgSomeday, mi amigo, someday. Now let’s see what her fat friends had to say…