Wanta Fanta?

Don’t You Wanta?



– You Know You Wanta! Well, me wanta a ten zillion lap dances from each one of the Fantanas. Me wanta to know what it feels like to spend $129,626 at a strip club in one night like this guy.

– And before we go any further, you’all have to check out this lil gem that the master pedos have dug up over at F.U.B.A.R. (but since most of you are T.J.N.R.com readers, this will be nothing new): What’s A Girl To Do aka Nancy gets a lil red scare sirprize between her panties. Yikes!

– And before we delve any deeper into this post, please open the Fanta link again, let the amazing “Wanta Fanta” song play out, leave that Fanta window open and then open the What’s A Girl To Do ditty. The juxtaposition of that Fanta fizzing sound along with a man going “aaaaaah” and Allison Hill’s narration is the best mash-up since Jay-Zeezer’s The Black And Blue Album. Trust me. And if you really want to jump out of the window, throw Coldplay’s “Nappies” into the mix.

– Don’t mess with Texas’ slogan Don’t Mess With Texas.

– Mini-Me wants OUT of his marriage. Thigh-Master-Me wants mini-muffins in my stomach, NOW!

– Sir So Sayeth himself, Peabs may have left us all for the luscious shores of Thailand (I mean whores), but his legacy will live on forever. UrbanDictionary.com has a listing for his contributions to the American lexicon, obvs and tigs. Gawd bless you Peabsy, wherever you may be.

– OK, time for sum Sopranos chat-shat. If you didn’t see the episode yet, stop reading now and go fork yourself. Seriously, take a fork and start stabbing yerself. I was expecting to see a lackluster finale featuring Furio’s return to have coffee with Carmella, but they blew my eggspectations out the mudder fudging water. Whacking Mr. Pink and sending Johnny Sack and his w/out papers (W.O.P.s) posse to the big house was a great ender to a season that was 2/3rds amazing (sans horse riding dream sequences and Tony’s dad’s mistress who had cobwebs in between her cottage cheese thighs… if any woman should keep her thighs wide shut, it should be her). But now there’s no conflicts. No war between the families.

What’s going to happen next year? Tony gonna walk to DC to save AJ from the impending ice age ala Quaid/Darko in The Day After Tomorrow Never Knows? And what about Max Casella aka Doogie Howser, M.D.‘s own Vinnie Delpino? Last we saw him, he was enjoying some Roy Rogers and then getting his ass clubbed by the dude in Goodfellas who had the same thing done to him in Goodfellas. Go get yer fucking shine box. Too bad we’ll have to wait until 2112 for season 6 and the true meaning behind that Rush album.

– Went bowling for the second time in as many weeks. This time around it was at this lil outta the way place in Crooklyn called Melody Lanes for my girl Strow’s b-day. Btw, you want to be this girl’s friend cause she always has the best parties. Me also czeched out that De Lay Hoya fight that was a complete scam. He didn’t win and I hate boxing, so I don’t really care. Me also saw Harry Pothead’s latest jizzle. F-in MINT to a tee. Full review forth coming. And today finished it up with a Texas Hold ‘Em tourney filled with fellow Heebs. These two Israelis were cleaning up shop, while the rest of us Zionists were figuring out which TV and radio stations to buy with the money in our banks.

– And finally, can’t wait til LL Day, this Thursday, June 10th for the airing of this past weekend’s MTV Movie Awards. And if these three photos don’t raise your flag and make you want to tune in, then it’s time to chop off yer penis or whatever you have.

Major props de leon to my man Marvkus for finding the pics and to killergoalie13 for posting ’em. And the most bovs Lohan article evs: “Living the dream life?” Duhvs!