Megan Fox mates with Giant Wasp, Shrimpjaw Unsurprised
Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Sir Shrimpjaw of Upper Hartfordsheepwickoxfamshire, Vice-Admiral of Byzantium, Slayer of the fearful, Pleasurer of women far and wide, has an official decree.
Though nearly godlike in his appearance and abilities, Shrimpjaw is not unaware of the daily plight of the indigenous residents of his newly conquered land. Yes, it is true, many were slain in the initial shrimpjawaforming of the island. Even more perished during the pitiful raid on our Compound my Mascella and his acolytes. Plus, Shrimpjaw shot a bunch of you from his balcony for no reason. That's just how he rolls. In order to turn the tide in his relations with the inhabitants (except for sexual relationships, which are going somewhat well, at least from their perspective) we have decided, in our infite delicious wisdom, to lighten the mood around here a bit. In keeping with that plan, from this day forth, unto the end of days, all residents of Nendo, previously known as Nendoans, shall henceforth be known as Nintendoans. Yeah, Nintendo! Awesome! But don't think it stops there. God, why are you always assuming things? Fucking chillax or something! Shrimpjaw has also taken it upon his supple, elegant shoulders to rewrite that moldy old Nintendoan theme song. And by rewrite, Shrimpjaw totally does not mean that he just replaced it with the opening theme for Ninja Gaiden. Now, fly those flags high!
This just in: Megan Fox is insecure! Possibly because her career mainly depends on recognition as "That Hot Brown Haired Chick from that Robot Movie" Fox is raising quite a stink about her conditions for the upcoming sequel, Transformers II: Moneybucketz. Acording to Star Magazine, Meg has forbidden the director and producers from hiring any other sexy brunettes to star in the film. Ole' Mox is reportedly fine with having other attractive blonde actresses, but draws the line at brunettes. First off, Shrimpjaw's not going to pretend that we didn't bang out Megan Fox the second she became famous enough to warrant doing so (sometime around Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen. What? She was 18.), but isn't this a little much? I mean, does Agent Mulder here understand how men even work? If there was another auburn headed actress in the film it wouldn't crowd her spotlight at all? Why? Jesus! Do I really have to connect the dots for you? God, Shrimpjaw reader, when are you going to get your fucking act together? It's because guys wouldn't even be able to tell them apart. Look:
Billy Prescott: Hey, Bobby. Which girl in Tranformerz 2 did you like the best?
Bobby Prescott: I don't know, the brown haired one.
Billy Prescott (hotty bo bottie): Which one? There were two.
Bobby Prescott (so polio scarred): Um, I guess the one with the boobz.
Billy Prescott: Oh, yeah. Michael J. Fox's daughter. She's hott.
Bobby Prescott: Boobz!
That right there was a pretty good litmus test for the rest of men that would attend such a movie. So really, Megatron is going to have to find some ways to differentiate herself from all other women in order to keep getting noticed. Fortunately, Dr. Camaron Quijada just so happens to dabble in a little genetic alteration here and there. Hell, we grafted goat antlers on nearly half the Nintendoan children. This shit is really easy. Shrimpjaw tried to convince Dr. Crevette Machoire to get a number of...alterations, but she steadfastily refused. We docked her pay accordingly. Just think of the possibilities. Megan Fox is again on the cover of Maxim, only this time she's got a rhinocerous horn sticking out of her chest, crab legs, and the head of a giant killer bee. It's really a powerful career move. Think of the things J.J. Abrams or M. Night Shyamalan could do with an actor like that. I smell a Golden Globe.
In news that has nothing to do with titties (we know, what's the point, right Egotastic?), the first trailer for the latest James Bond movie has hit the internet. The film, titled the Quantum of Solace, features....wait, wait, wait. Fucking hold up. The What of What? The motherfucking Quantum of Solace? What does that even mean? God, for a minute there after hearing that title, we felt a stab of confusion and thought that said confusion is what life must be like for our readers on a daily basis. It must be difficult to go through life unable to process even the littlest things. Ha, no, you stupid fucks. We're just screwing with you. Us, be like you? Like you? You must be even more stupid than Machoire's multiple anesthesia-free tests on Shrimpjaw readers would have led us to believe. We could never be like you. For one thing, we've seen a vagina before. A REAL vagina too, not just the kind of vagina that you guys go around making by you and your fellow halfwits taking their hands, spreading their fingers, interlocking them with each other and then opening your palms to take a peek (God, you'll never get laid). The closest that we'll ever get to you is the impression of you that we've recently been showing off at our Nintendoan socials. Listen; "OMG, where're all the cookies? I'm soooo hungry cuz my house is all out of ice cream! I'll never have sex! Cuz I'm sooooo Goreckified! LOL! I'm freakish. OMG, did you head that McKittrick is going to be directing an episode of Hoffman and Huffman? For realz, it's gonna come on right after My Name Is Earl!" Like looking into a mirror, we bet.
Regardless, The Quantum of Solace? Really? Fucking whatever. So, great, like we already said, the trailer for The Physics of Comforting recently hit the internet. Shrimpjaw viewed it and let us tell you; whooptie-fucking-doo. What's the big deal about this whole James Bond overhaul anyway? "Oh really? Bond would be slightly less ridiculous if he DIDN'T have a car that turned invisible and shot love-rockets from its engine?" Christ, it took them forty years to figure it out, and they STILL botched it. But then again, what can you expect when your film is about an English secret agent (Codename: Foppish Crag-Faced Dufflemaker) and has a title like The Vector of Consolation. Oh, and also, isn't the Bourne trilogy essentially exactly what the filmmakers were going for when they rebooted Bond? Oh, it was? It was and it hit FOUR YEARS before Casino Royale? Oh, okay, cool. No, no, great original idea Casino Royale. Super. It's not like either of these really matter though, I mean, the first time we saw the Bourne movies we thought they were just a documentary about our life. However, when three minutes went by and no one onscreen had yet to decimate the uterus of any of the many women that had been in the film by that point, we knew it had to be merely a work of fiction and not the Shrimpjaw biopic that we've been waiting to see grace the silver screen for years now.
Though nearly godlike in his appearance and abilities, Shrimpjaw is not unaware of the daily plight of the indigenous residents of his newly conquered land. Yes, it is true, many were slain in the initial shrimpjawaforming of the island. Even more perished during the pitiful raid on our Compound my Mascella and his acolytes. Plus, Shrimpjaw shot a bunch of you from his balcony for no reason. That's just how he rolls. In order to turn the tide in his relations with the inhabitants (except for sexual relationships, which are going somewhat well, at least from their perspective) we have decided, in our infite delicious wisdom, to lighten the mood around here a bit. In keeping with that plan, from this day forth, unto the end of days, all residents of Nendo, previously known as Nendoans, shall henceforth be known as Nintendoans. Yeah, Nintendo! Awesome! But don't think it stops there. God, why are you always assuming things? Fucking chillax or something! Shrimpjaw has also taken it upon his supple, elegant shoulders to rewrite that moldy old Nintendoan theme song. And by rewrite, Shrimpjaw totally does not mean that he just replaced it with the opening theme for Ninja Gaiden. Now, fly those flags high!
This just in: Megan Fox is insecure! Possibly because her career mainly depends on recognition as "That Hot Brown Haired Chick from that Robot Movie" Fox is raising quite a stink about her conditions for the upcoming sequel, Transformers II: Moneybucketz. Acording to Star Magazine, Meg has forbidden the director and producers from hiring any other sexy brunettes to star in the film. Ole' Mox is reportedly fine with having other attractive blonde actresses, but draws the line at brunettes. First off, Shrimpjaw's not going to pretend that we didn't bang out Megan Fox the second she became famous enough to warrant doing so (sometime around Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen. What? She was 18.), but isn't this a little much? I mean, does Agent Mulder here understand how men even work? If there was another auburn headed actress in the film it wouldn't crowd her spotlight at all? Why? Jesus! Do I really have to connect the dots for you? God, Shrimpjaw reader, when are you going to get your fucking act together? It's because guys wouldn't even be able to tell them apart. Look:
Billy Prescott: Hey, Bobby. Which girl in Tranformerz 2 did you like the best?
Bobby Prescott: I don't know, the brown haired one.
Billy Prescott (hotty bo bottie): Which one? There were two.
Bobby Prescott (so polio scarred): Um, I guess the one with the boobz.
Billy Prescott: Oh, yeah. Michael J. Fox's daughter. She's hott.
Bobby Prescott: Boobz!
That right there was a pretty good litmus test for the rest of men that would attend such a movie. So really, Megatron is going to have to find some ways to differentiate herself from all other women in order to keep getting noticed. Fortunately, Dr. Camaron Quijada just so happens to dabble in a little genetic alteration here and there. Hell, we grafted goat antlers on nearly half the Nintendoan children. This shit is really easy. Shrimpjaw tried to convince Dr. Crevette Machoire to get a number of...alterations, but she steadfastily refused. We docked her pay accordingly. Just think of the possibilities. Megan Fox is again on the cover of Maxim, only this time she's got a rhinocerous horn sticking out of her chest, crab legs, and the head of a giant killer bee. It's really a powerful career move. Think of the things J.J. Abrams or M. Night Shyamalan could do with an actor like that. I smell a Golden Globe.
In news that has nothing to do with titties (we know, what's the point, right Egotastic?), the first trailer for the latest James Bond movie has hit the internet. The film, titled the Quantum of Solace, features....wait, wait, wait. Fucking hold up. The What of What? The motherfucking Quantum of Solace? What does that even mean? God, for a minute there after hearing that title, we felt a stab of confusion and thought that said confusion is what life must be like for our readers on a daily basis. It must be difficult to go through life unable to process even the littlest things. Ha, no, you stupid fucks. We're just screwing with you. Us, be like you? Like you? You must be even more stupid than Machoire's multiple anesthesia-free tests on Shrimpjaw readers would have led us to believe. We could never be like you. For one thing, we've seen a vagina before. A REAL vagina too, not just the kind of vagina that you guys go around making by you and your fellow halfwits taking their hands, spreading their fingers, interlocking them with each other and then opening your palms to take a peek (God, you'll never get laid). The closest that we'll ever get to you is the impression of you that we've recently been showing off at our Nintendoan socials. Listen; "OMG, where're all the cookies? I'm soooo hungry cuz my house is all out of ice cream! I'll never have sex! Cuz I'm sooooo Goreckified! LOL! I'm freakish. OMG, did you head that McKittrick is going to be directing an episode of Hoffman and Huffman? For realz, it's gonna come on right after My Name Is Earl!" Like looking into a mirror, we bet.
Regardless, The Quantum of Solace? Really? Fucking whatever. So, great, like we already said, the trailer for The Physics of Comforting recently hit the internet. Shrimpjaw viewed it and let us tell you; whooptie-fucking-doo. What's the big deal about this whole James Bond overhaul anyway? "Oh really? Bond would be slightly less ridiculous if he DIDN'T have a car that turned invisible and shot love-rockets from its engine?" Christ, it took them forty years to figure it out, and they STILL botched it. But then again, what can you expect when your film is about an English secret agent (Codename: Foppish Crag-Faced Dufflemaker) and has a title like The Vector of Consolation. Oh, and also, isn't the Bourne trilogy essentially exactly what the filmmakers were going for when they rebooted Bond? Oh, it was? It was and it hit FOUR YEARS before Casino Royale? Oh, okay, cool. No, no, great original idea Casino Royale. Super. It's not like either of these really matter though, I mean, the first time we saw the Bourne movies we thought they were just a documentary about our life. However, when three minutes went by and no one onscreen had yet to decimate the uterus of any of the many women that had been in the film by that point, we knew it had to be merely a work of fiction and not the Shrimpjaw biopic that we've been waiting to see grace the silver screen for years now.