POLL #24!

What sickening, mildly-severely fabricated piece of fucking scholastic turtle shit are we all currently working on?

I'm doing 12 pages for Fascism on the history of beards. Yeah. Hahahaha.

Because Immigrants Fucking Stick Together

And also because would you rather go to class or party in the streets with a bunch of Mexicans? Yeah.

http://www.immigrantsolidarity.org/

Tonks is Really Hot

*

Good for you, Thewlis!

BREAKING: James Bond To Rock A ‘Dozer

That’s right. Daniel “I Only Care About Jewish Blood” Craig is totally gonna be cruising around in a motherfucking bulldozer in the opening for Casino Royale. This is extremely exciting, as it joins two of the hottest things in life: James Bond and BULLDOZERZ!

Also:
“We have a diverse clientele,” ['dozer spokeswoman Silvia Cassani] said. “We don't just have old farmers.” Know that.

Garfield Strip of the Day!

(Love, Gilroy)

A Naked Man Got His Nude Ass Arrested After Being Trapped In And Then Rescued From His Stepmother’s Chimney!

I’m not actually sure which part of this I should point your attention to, as every line in this article is astonishing. If I had to choose, I’d probably say take extra special note of Hayward Police Lt. Gary Branson’s fine investigative observations, but the image of the naked man being “pushed to safety” by firefighters is pretty fantastic too. In any case:

HAYWARD, Calif. - A man who spent five hours naked and stuck in the chimney of his stepmother's home was arrested on suspicion of being under the influence of drugs, police said.

Police say Michael Urbano, 23, locked himself out of the house early Saturday morning and decided to get in on a cable TV wire through the chimney. But the wire broke and Urbano fell, getting stuck about three-quarters of the way down. He was freed when a firefighter pushed him to safety.

"We get him up, and he's naked as a jaybird," said Hayward police Lt. Gary Branson. "He tells us he took his clothes off because there would be less friction going down the chute. We did find his clothes. So that part checked out."

Authorities were called about 6:15 a.m. Saturday. A neighbor heard "faint, distressing" calls since about 2:30 a.m. and decided to call police. Police say it probably wasn't a comfortable few hours for Urbano.

"He's not fat," Branson said, "but he used to play football. He's not that little." *

Ok. First of all, since when does being naked in your chimney = drug use? I thought this was America. Just cause a brother feels like freeballin it in his stepmom’s fireplace doesn’t mean he’s on drugs. Maybe that’s just his thing, like how sometimes I like to pop up at teacher’s summer homes wearing only hotpants and a balaclava. Frankly, this sounds to me like yet another strike in the country’s growing War on Naked, and Im.Bitch refuses to tolerate it. What’s so embarrassing about the human body anyway?

Secondly. The guy’s neighbor started hearing “faint, distressing calls” at 2:30 am and waited til 6:15 the next morning to call someone?! What the fuck? What would happen if everyone started ignoring faint, distressing calls? Well, for one thing, we’d all have a lot less b’love in our lives, as the same would likely still be trapped, dangling by the pant leg from atop a barbed-out fence. So word. Uncool, Neighbor.

And lastly…this cop. What the fuck is his deal? Aside from the fact that “naked as a jaybird” is never an acceptable phrase to use, ever, is anyone else really sketched out and confused by…every single one his quotes? “He’s not fat, but he used to play football.” ???? Did this guy somehow know Naked back in his football days, or upon questioning was he just like ‘hey, you’re not that little, but not fat – why is that?’ Either way: what the fuck. But that’s actually nothing compared to his “we did find his clothes so that part checked out” assertion. Cause…ummm… the only thing finding the naked man’s clothes (presumably near the chimney?) confirms is that he took off his clothes before entering the chimney, which we kind of already knew. The fact that he did indeed get naked at the chimney in no way lends credence to the ‘less friction’ rationale. Nothing could support that claim. That’s just an unintelligent and insane thing to say. But whatever. Bottom line: we can no longer be naked in family members’ chimneys without fear of indictment. The fascists have won.

Will Smith, Bar Mitzvah Ruiner

Hey, good for you, Will Smith...good for you...oh, wait, fuck that nevermind.

JERUSALEM - He never got an invitation and he certainly didn't R.S.V.P., but that didn't stop Will Smith from crashing Atir Cohen's bar mitzvah at Jerusalem's Western Wall.

Cohen, 13, was deep into his Torah reading Thursday when he heard shouting and saw girls pushing against the barrier separating men from women at the holy site to catch a glimpse of the Hollywood superstar.

"At first I didn't know who it was," Cohen said. Smith compensated for the interruption by shaking the bar mitzvah boy's hand and posing for a picture with him.

Surrounded by a security detail, Smith approached the wall and put a note in the cracks in keeping with tradition. Smith and his wife, Jada Pinkett Smith, then took a tour of an excavated tunnel alongside the wall. The tour leader was Shmuel Rabinovitch, chief rabbi of the holy site, who said the couple took notes and spent several minutes praying. "He is a very nice man, he was very excited and showed his emotions," he said.

Smith and his wife later visited the nearby Church of the Holy Sepulcher, built on the site where many Christians believe that Jesus was crucified.

Brandeis: 1, Molly: 1

That Is All.

Happy Holiday! / Good News For Jews, Bad News for Katie

Upwards of 200 Kilos (um, I have no idea how much that is. Seriously, zero.) of Marijuana Washed Up on Some Beach in Israel
Just in time for the holiday. I guess it pays to rock the Holy Land on a daily basis...Brandeis: 1, Molly: 0.

Macalester Cancels CHEEBAdanza
Cause no matter where you are, college is bullshit.

But None of This Really Matter Much to Us
Cause Bettina just made Matzo Brei

Take it.

Ps. Can we take Google sporting this trippy shit today as an official 4/20 endorsement?

Jack White Coke Ad

Kind of amazing, kind of annoying?

Omg, This Tea Is Incredible

!!

BREAKING: Shawn From Boy Meets World Returns To Prime Time

He’s back, sweet mystery, he’s back! Playing “Chick” on monstrosity/WB show Pepper Dennis. Has anyone else seen this? It features lines like “Jack, the Pontiff was my beat,” and references to the same’s “holy behind.” Yeah. But whatever, Shawn is back, which is all we need to know. That, and the fact that the actor’s name is … prepare yourselves… “Rider Strong,” which, despite devoted BmeetsW viewings in our younger days, we totally didn’t know until P.D.’s opening credits. Rider Strong. Nobutreally.

Only one question remains: WHERE TOPANGA AT?

Read it to your child at bedside! Give one to your sister the new mom!

How many consecutive posts can we go solely celebrating b’love? THIS MANY.

It's Just A Plant

Katie L. L. sends us this sparkler from out west. Aside from the genuinely revolting illustrations (which are particularly disturbing when reading it as it was meant to be read), this book is pretty unreal. We learned so much! Like, the fact that fast food-craving high black people sometimes call weed “muggles.” Did anyone else know that? Anyone like… ol’ J.K.R.? Yeah, we’re not sure how to deal with that either.

Be sure to read all the way through.

That Said, Keep In Mind That

It Doesn't Always End Here







But It Does Often Start Here

Holiday Preparations

We were recently roused us out of our ‘Yo, I’m home, Coldless, and There are 5 Packages of Mac and Soy “Cheese” Waiting For Me in the Freezer’ hazy stupor long enough to be reminded by our very own L.Bell that another 4/20 is nearly upon us. That shit totally crept up on us this year, like the way Chanukah does a lot, and also, fittingly, the b’love which many of us will be enjoying come Thursday. Thankfully, Im.Bitch will be home during the holiday, and not at school, where educational fascism runs rampant and preschoolers have to be cared for, so this year’s celebration promises to be an exceptional one.

Let’s recount some of our favorite 4/20 memories in anticipation of this year’s extravaganza. We’ll kick things off with 4 of our own:

1. Once upon a 4/20, a crew of youngsters headed over to the wooden shack of a friend during the school day to get a little higher. Things were going famously, until SPLAM! They were CAUGHT by the friend’s mom, who then proceeded to ask about college visiting trips etc., to the youngsters’ incredibly high dismay. That episode, though extraordinarily traumatizing at the time, is now looked back upon with satisfaction and merriment, if only because it birthed the following world class exchange:
The Friend: Mom, relax, we all have frees. [A lie.]
The Friend’s Mom: That doesn’t mean you have to sit around smoking pot all day!
A sound point – a free period doesn’t mean we have to smoke the pot, but hey, if there’s pot to be smoked, and you have a free period, it’s certainly a pretty appealing option, especially on 4/20.

2. That same 4/20 found that same crew of youngsters staring highly at a Riverdale lawn sprinkler, trying to decide whether or not they should bounce on in, standing mesmerized for upwards of 10 minutes in what must have been a really disturbing manner, given the mix of seriousness with which the youths were debating the pros and cons of the sprinkler proposal, and the level of glaring highness they had even so early in the day irrefutably achieved. This went on until one of them finally looked up to see the mistress of the sprinkler-housing house at the window, phone in hand, regarding them in a state of mingled anger and disgusted wonder. The youths returned to school.

3. Another 4/20 found Pasty getting into a fairly serious and incredibly high brawl with a Fieldston teacher about a paper grade, ending in the teacher asking to meet with Pasty at the end of class, in turn ending in the teacher dismissing Pasty with a sneering Snape-esque “Happy holiday.” !!

4. On yet another 4/20, returning from one of a duo’s last trips to the famed the alley, the same were surprised when an elderly gardener sprung suddenly out at them, barking, we shit you not, “don’t think I don’t know what you kids are up to.”
“What school are you from?” He added.
“Horace Mann,” they said.
“Don’t come around here again.”
...You meddling kids?

Ps. It’s posts like these that MommaVoz generally turns a blind eye towards, but as discretion was never exactly our forte, and also like, we know you’re reading this MommaVoz, ima bust out publicly with this one and say YO, you wanna maybe prepare like a stock of sandwiches for me and mine in preparation for the holiday? (...This probably won't end well.)

Shocking Roommate Hall of Fame

Hollered drunkenly at a “party,” whispered seductively over vegan hot chocolate, stated tearfully on the phone to friends back home who really don’t give a fuck, that age old college declaration has probably been uttered by each of us in due course: “No, seriously. I have the worst roommate ever.” Some of us, who have returned mid-day to find our roommate’s nasty used underpants resting openly on our desks, or who have been awoken in the wee hours of the morn by Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous (“What, I’m watching it”), may have had reason to say this, but nobody – nobody – has a story that tops this one. And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a new inductee into the Shocking Roommate Hall of Fame. Just out of possible fear that the roommate in question will somehow google himself in the classical sense of the phrase for a change, see this, and then somehow make the situation in that room worse, we’re gonna run this bitch without monikers of any sort. We’ll call our man “our man” as we describe the event that awarded the roommate (henceforth: “the roommate”) his new Shocking Roommate Hall of Famer title. But I dawdle.

Early on in the semester, our man noticed some...abnormal behavior on the part of his new roommate. Each night, the roommate would go to bed early, leaving our man to his business. And every night our man would creep to bed, only moments later to hear the sounds, and, when o.m. checked that shit out TO SEE THE SIGHT of the roommate engaging in open, blanketless masturbation. Dismissing the conduct as “some kind of fucked up sleep disorder” (HAHAHHA), o.m. ignored it, until one very special night.

On the night in question, the roommate had a friend of his – “a rather unattractive girl” staying over. In the words of o.m., “I was like, ‘hey if the two of you want the room, just tell me, I understand’,” but no, the roommate assured o.m., this beast was purely platonic. The roommate and the creature went to sleep early as usual, the roommate in his bed and the creature in a bag on the floor by his feet, and as usual o.m. came into the room much later and went to sleep. And....as usual, just seconds after o.m. got into bed, the roommate started to feed the cats. “What the fuck!” thought o.m., “he’s shaking hands with the sheriff while his platonic lady friend is sleeping on the floor next to him?” Pretty horrible, but not Shocking Roommate Hall of Fame horrible. What is? Well, glancing over to confirm the obvious, o.m. noticed...wait for it...that THE CREATURE WAS ALSO MASTURBATING, in her sleeping bag on the floor.

Was this some kind of Da Vinci Code-esque cult practice? Is the roommate “secretly gay and is trying to send you a message” as one associate suggested? Or was it purely coincidence that two compulsive-masturbators were housed within the same walls one night but a few feet away from o.m.? I don’t know, but one thing I know is that that is simultaneously masturbating hands down the worst fucking roommate ever. Ever. Ever.

Animal Newz

There is a Huge Monster Bunny Out On the Loose, Eating People's Vegetable Patches
And all people are talking about is how upset they are that their cabbage and shit is being gobbled, not the fact MASSIVE FUCKING RABBITS EXIST. WHAT!!? (...Gournal?)

Molly the Brooklyn Cat Remains Chillin in Her Wall

With Molly the fugitive feline sending out distress calls from a few feet — or maybe just inches — away, animal rescue and city experts tried anew on Thursday to lure the 11-month-old black cat from the innards of a 19th century building where she has been trapped for nearly two weeks.
…
In another move, two kittens were brought to the scene in a carryon cage, in hopes that their mewing might trigger Molly's maternal instincts enough to draw her out.
…
On Wednesday, bricks had been carefully removed at various spots to give Molly an escape route. Molly stayed put. Pastore's team later got a fleeting look at Molly through a tiny video camera snaked into the crawl space, but could not reach her. A cage, baited with food, was left overnight. Molly didn't bite. Even catnip, the feline aphrodisiac, had no effect on the timorous tabby.
…
On Thursday, a self-described "cat therapist," Carole Wilbourne, knelt on the sidewalk next to the building's outer wall and tried to coax Molly out with what she hoped were soothing words.

"I hear you, sweetheart," she cooed. "Come on, Molly, you can do it...everybody wants you to come out... nobody's going to hurt you."

After a few minutes, one of Pastore's aides, wearing a surgical mask, emerged from the dusty cellar and asked Wilbourne to stop. "I think you're stressing her out," she said.

Wilbourne complied, saying that she had been trying to "give inspiration" to the wayward cat. "I care," she told reporters. "I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't."

Seriously, one call to yours truly would save these bastards a lot of trouble. Cause I don’t care what species you are, Mollys don’t do soothing words, Mollys don’t do tiny video cameras, and Mollys certainly don’t do motherfucking mewing kittens. Only one way to lure a Molly out of a perfectly chill wall hiding spot, and it ain’t catnip, baby: give that feline some real herb. That, or a crisp a stack of 20s.

Keep on truckin’ Molls.

How Was Everyone’s Seder-day Night?

Yes.

Persons A-D drank a fat jug of Manischewitz with a gentile who was not only totally on Road Rules, but who also at least twice started sentences with “when I was on The Challenge…” It is my sorrow to report that said Road Ruler did not, however, find the afikoman, despite their proficiency for contest.

Person E was chilling at the Passover table when BAM! all of a sudden their pocket started to SMOKE fiercely, due to the (alleged) tobacco pipe that lay resting in their jacket. The youngins at the table were quick to quench the pocket fire, but not before Person E’s mother gave an extensive Smokey The Bear-esque talking to on how to most properly handle fire, pipes, and, inexplicably, chametz.

Person F’s Pesach fun didn’t start til after their second Seder, when, driving back from a parking lot to pick up the rest of the fam, they accidentally hit on a transvestite. “Well, there are all kinds of interesting people out tonight,” Person F’s shotgun companion kidded, catching sight of a pair of buxom black she-males as the car lay waiting at a traffic light. “Hey, that one has a pretty nice ass,” Person F returned (!!!?!). Alas, what Person F didn’t realize was that the window was open when they made the remark, and the trannies were but a few feet away…but no worries –the transvestite was, erm, just flattered: “she just turned around and gave me a luxurious smile.”

What A Fox

Genocide shmenocide. I’d slam that.


{“You are scared of the interior minister. He doesn't scare my dog.” TORRID.}

You Asked For It

Ever since Battle of the Blogz ’06, in which we totally subjugated Girl Friday blogger Shook the Spot in front of friends, family, and former highschool teachers, bitches have been coming out of the woodwork trying to taunt us into taking a public piece of them, no doubt in search of the same Im.Bitch fame S-the-S enjoyed during wartime. But where Shook remained gentlemanly and at times even clever in his attacks, this new wave of aggressors is taking a far blunter, more obvious approach. Gone are the days of clandestine “oh, so it’s on on?” “oh yeah, bitch, it’s on” Priam-on-Achilles-esque pre-battle gmail chats: today’s blwarriors take that shit directly to the streets, and Im.Bitch doesn’t like it.

We’ve ignored the barbs, gibes, and sneers for the most part – blog wars are, after all, so early March – but one heated “blogger” has been begging for a public bashing so hard (likely due largely to the fact that he is running for class line-leader or some shit?) that we thought we’d be nice and give him a break, while addressing some of the issues many of you have recently brought up. Plus we kind of thought of some ways to insult him back and we can’t pass that shit up.

BenWK*****: i was just catching up on my HIB reading and I'm a bit disappointed. Where're all the posts about guys giving you the slip, per se
BenWK*****: I don't read HIB to hear about roommate troubles
BenWK*****: I read for the hot, racy, jewish sex
...

BenWK*****: way to become me and never update
BenWK*****: immigration laws getting you down i bet
…

BenWK*****: what's behind the recent pussiness of your disclaimers?

Ok. Let’s run through this point by point, shall we?

On that first claim: A) You are disgusting. B) Point taken, but this is what I am going to school with:

You feel me? Ain’t nobody wanna hit / read about someone hitting that.









On the second: A) True, you never ever update. But I think maybe we’re all happier that way? I, for one, definitely feel like a worse person having read the line “The Folk Music Festival at Pitzer is awesome,” for example. B) Immigration laws are pretty tough, yes, which is something you and your former nanny maybe know a little bit about? How is Rosa, by the way? Oh, deported? Word. (Oh fuck; yes. I just took it there.)

And the third: Maybe things are different over in sunny California, but ‘round these parts, sometimes when you have meetings with deans in which they threaten to call your mommy and/or make you pay for psychosis ward bills, you need to slap up some disclaimers so as to avoid further heat. Or, in other words: The feds is watchin', niggas plottin' to get me. Will I survive, will I die, come on lets picture the possibilities.
Giving me charges, lawyers making a grip. I told the judge I was raised wrong and that’s why I blaze shit.

SAMurai: molly
SAMurai: i want a shout out on the blog
PASTY_RUSSIAN: ok!
SAMurai: fuck yes
SAMurai: OH SHIT I'M TRIPPING

Just Overheard in My Hallway:

Gay But Not Gay Sylvester: Wait...you’ve never heard of Planned Parenthood?
Some Bitch: Um...no?
Gay But Not Gay Sylvester: I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but are you serious?
Some Bitch: Well, I mean, do they only work in poor neighborhoods?

“Special Delivery!”

called the stork, as up and away she flew
for suddenly on April 2nd, 2006
into our lives had come not one precious bundle – but two!

Dear friends,
It is our enormous pleasure to announce the births of two new baby blogz.

The first, by popular demand, is – yes, you guessed it!! – Momma Voz’s official new site. She mostly talks about scotch a lot, and occasionally about like some new poker skill she picked up at the bar, but all the same, this is pretty fucking incredible. So, Mr. Aune, next time you’re reading Im.Bitch and thinking “whoa, this shit is crazy, where does she get that from?” head on over to MommaVoz.blogspot.com. But be cool, yo: that’s my moms.

Annnnd the second is a little something my troop (yes) and I have been working on during the time in which we are supposed to be attending class? maybe… It’s called Freedom Trail Mixes of Boston, and it is not only self-explanatory, but also totally necessary – in the world, and on your computer. It won’t be officially up and running for a few days yet, but you can still check that shit out for a general idea…(and btw, that
”jews who reach higher” link on the side? Straight from Momma Voz.)

So enjoy! And, as always, may Ja bless you and yours.