The unholy bastard off-spring of Satan (read:MTV) has decided to usher in the end of mankind with a new reality show to find Paris Hilton a new best friend. In addition to the voting on the website, apparently producers have taken the show on the road to hold auditions as well. So which is it? Votes or tryouts? This seems like a recipe for disaster. And I don’t know which is worse – that there are people alive who like Paris Hilton enough to want to be friends with her or that some of those people are guys. Let’s be honest, the only two possible reasons to be male and on this show would be a) you are gay or b) your in it for the ass. But anyone who wants to keep his penis attached and not feeling like it permanently dwells in a lava pool full of chlamydia would be doing everything possible to keep his (or her – we respect all peoples on this interwebs site) penis as far from Paris (not the city) as possible. So, hate to break it to you guys, but I guess if you’re trying out to be Paris Hilton’s BFF, you are logically gay.
More to the point, though, is that this is obviously the first sign of the Apocalypse. Does Paris Hilton touring the country with her vagina-cloud of STDs sound suspiciously like the Pestilence horseman riding forth to anyone else? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to look into finding a way to prevent the vagcloudo’death from raining fiery-when-I-pee death down on me. I’ll let you know what I find.
UPDATE: Found it! It’s whiskey! Ah, delicious, crotch-saving whiskey.
UPDATE: Holy shit I drank two bottles and woke up with a tingly sensation in my nethers. And what is that alien-looking blonde doing wearing my Styx baseball shirt from their ‘04 tour? Wait…is that…*checks penis, finds note:
Dear Assknuckle,
By the time you read this letter, I’ll be gone and you’ll be stuck with a penis-less groin infested with no less than eight STDs. Those were frontiers I’d have just as soon left unexplored. But you had to boldly go where so many have gone before. I resign my post. Enjoy your new simple life.*
Former Gunner’s First (and only) Mate Wee Tod
*It makes me sad that my penis is more witty than I am. Come back Wee Tod – I really have to pee 
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