Top 20 Yahoo Search Madlib
June 20, 2004
Rules: use Yahoo's top twenty search words in their original order.
Jennifer Lopez slid her avocado scented feet down into the Wal Mart knock off retro trainers as
Matt Starr prepared, in his own apartment for his own clandestine night on the town.
It had been 23 days since all the Britney Spears CDs were destroyed by the punk rebels. The stars felt it was safe to come out onto the streets again now that Jessica Simpson’s press conference had taken the heat off. Applying the spirit gum and fake beards they then slid out along the shadowed inside edge of sidewalks toward their local watering holes. It was still safer to go incognito. Jeanie Buss even chose to go out as a hunchback. It was a vintage look right down to the yellowed and crooked dental caps.
The Euro 2004 fashion show had been a bloodbath. All hell had broken loose, as the Givenchy spring line was unveiled. The story goes something like this.
Marion Jones had shown up with her husband and when a vodka martini was spilled in her lap she leapt upward in a typical shock reaction. For a split second her broad back blocked Paris Hilton’s view of the runway. While her boyfriend du jour Dallas Radisson tried to restrain her Paris began screaming gutter slang and scratching the air like a stuck weasel. The rising heat of her breath hit the sprinkler system and set off a downpour. The chaos that ensued easily equaled the special effects in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban which had won in yesterday’s Golden Globes for “Best Effects in a Picture With a Budget Higher than the GNP of 60% of the World’s Nations”.
The savvy Jennifer Lopez understood this as the perfect candid wet T-shirt “photo op” that is was and turned toward the paparazzi to “give them some sugar”.
Usher, blinded in the glare of flashing bulbs, quickly took off his shirt and pulled his pants down further in order to protect himself from harm.
A chair mislabeled with Johnny Ramone’s name (a secretary misheard the name LuLuLemon) was, at some point, hurled into a crowd striking and paralyzing Jessica Simpson. The impact of the chair had dislodged one of her “Nike air” brain implants and she flew around the room like an expiring party balloon. Shareholders in Jessica Simpson stock called for the head of any founding father of punk rock. So began the war between the old school punks and the star system.
The Glitterati began to hunt down punk rockers and have their assistants kill them. The new school punk poppers thought they were immune but it was apparent that all the supermodels were breaking up with them left, right and centre. They would now have to feed further down the chain and they weren’t happy.
On the anniversary of Bloomsday that was to follow the outbreak of war the Irish physician attending to the babbling puddle that was now Jessica Simpson announced to her hospital visitors, the Detroit Pistons, (lecherous mob that they were…holding binoculars and hoping for a shift in the hospital gown) that Jessica was speaking in that very particular English found in James Joyce’s novel “Ulysses”. Knowing that the last book Jessica read would have had to be assigned to her in grade 8 (probably “the Outsiders” by S.E. Hinton) he assumed she was being used as a conduit for the communications of some otherworldly and more literate spirit.
Meanwhile stars continued to hunt down old punks. No one was safe despite his or her apparent innocence. While carrying the Olympic Torch through Orange County the members of Agent Orange were ironically maced from the crowd by some mixture of Chanel perfume and sulphuric acid. Massive Collateral damage was being sustained as the star’s lack of even the slightest knowledge of music history had them striking willy-nilly. Linkin Park were attacked in the Prestige Lounge of an unnamed airline, held down and sliced repeatedly across their forearm tattoos with paper cuts from their own 1st class boarding passes. At one point a debutant yelled, “this is for being the first bastards to combine rap with heavy guitar rock... and that might as well be punk”. Hadn’t they even heard of “Limp Bizkit”? Had they not heard of the the original, correctly spelled, “Lincoln Biscuit”?
The NBA had, by this time, brought in a team of officials to look into the Jessica Simpson/James Joyce “possession” theories. The Boston Celtic were particularly interested. It was later revealed that they were only acting on a tip that Simpson was inadvertently showing more skin and had scratched her belly in a way reminiscent of the “You Take My Breath Away” video.
Outside the punks were starting to get the upper hand. More adept at running an underground network the punks soon turned public opinion in their favour and exposed the star warriors for their misguided vengeance. Hadn’t it been proven by Billy Idol that there was no ill will between the two worlds? The backlash against “the stars” was swift and massive. From the Mississippi to the Nile River it was not safe for anyone sporting designer labels until Jessica awoke from her Joycian coma and barked immediately for a Pelligrino and a facial sponge.
Only Jessica Simpson could call the whole thing off. In a well-coached press conference she claimed the whole “coma thing” had really only given her some much needed beauty rest. She thanked Johnny Ramone for all he had done and (in front of a massive wall of cameras) after plunged her tongue deep into the mouth of her new special friend Blazes Boylon (Iggy Pop’s new stage name) she chirped, “um…Happy Father’s Day”.
afterward: Our strength and positive energy goes out to Johnny Ramone. Gabba Gabba Hey.