Katie Schwartz

Fredrick Schwartz from one of my faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaavorite reads, Editorials from Hell's Leading Newspaper , with a writing crew that will make you scream and gasp, wrote about christian cuddle parties: There are some things more frightening in hell but only things that happen on terra make me drink so early in the morning . His spin is politically brilliant and off the hook hilar squared . You have got to check this out. Run . Read . Now.

I'm not sure what's more disturbing, the thrusting jacked sack. Or, his dirty orange palms color coordinated to match his freakpubes leading to the creepiest weepeen I've ever seen. And, I'm not even a size queen. Help me. I can't stop staring at it. Happy Halloweeeneeeee

I'm an Aquarius. I also love a good spin on my sign. You can imagine how pleased I was when a friend forwarded me this nugget: AQUARIUS - The Sweetheart. Optimistic and honest. Sweet personality. Very independent. Inventive and intelligent. Friendly and loyal. Original and unique. Attractive on the inside and out. Eccentric personality . I ooed. I ahhed. Lovely. Until I saw this... 11 years of bad luck if you do not forward! Cunty enough?! Happy fuckin' Halloween to you, too, Snatcherella. Gaaaaaaaaaaaahd.

Sing it with me, oh Bubbsie , I love you so-oh. Oh, bubbsie, wubbsie, thank you so-oh for the big christian show-oh. Bubbsie sent me a link to Christian Cuddle Parties and this fabulous article about fondling without fucking . There is so much dish here I can't stand it. Christly cadets desperate to save their blessed virginity, guess what, there's a fondle fest in any city USA so you can get your touch and make-out swirl on. For the price of $30 and a new pair of flannel PJ's, you can participate in a hugging orgy or in a puppy pile. Check out the video . Andre Traversa wrote an article for the no-fuck-zone called Confessions of a Christian Cuddler . One of the things he drones on about is something he read in Sin Fest Rolling Stone, about this rock group that wears masterbands . Each member wears their lil badge of honor UNTIL the member has jerked his member. His shame is the instant removal of said jizband. Masturbating and fucking are very healthy. You don't ...

This is what I woke up to on Saturday Morning: From: PaganSinner Sent: Saturday, October 27, 2007 12:19 AM To: katiegirl@gmail.com Subject: Holy Shit...another fuckin' FAT ASS ACLU LOVING LIBERAL LOSER I WAS REJECTED BY EVERY IVEY LEAGUE KYKE BITCH writing her self-important JEW blog on the internet. What a fuckin' shock... Go blow a nigger and watch holocaust films WISHING you were a tall THIN Anglo-Saxon... -- I've always wondered why neo-Nazi's don't spell check. If I wanted to send hate-mail, I'd check my spelling and grammar so the hate-ee received a truly articulate taste of my hatefulness. I'm also curious about why he didn't incorporate other races into his hate-letter. Maybe he's not as Anglo-Saxon as he leads us to believe. Perhaps he's a hybrid of races and that's his dirty little secret. Pagarooney, is your mother Latin American? Asian? Iranian? You should be so lucky. Pagester why did you send something so cliche and predictable ...

While I realize my born again zealot readers would just LOOOOOVE to know that I've been consumed by California's mini-Armageddon, I'm here to say that I've still got a pulse .

Our beloved politits, D-Cup was assaulted . Seriously. By a WOMAN. At a corporate event for having a difference of opinion. It is unbelievable. I am so shocked and so appalled and so disgusted. Wrong.Wrong.Wrong. Run. Read . Now. Please! D-Cup, ya da classiest dame I know. Ya handled yaself beautifully. God forbid I find myself in a similar circumstance at some point, I can only that I exercise half of your grace.

I think Niagara is missing its Fall. Let's not have a * panic - picnic . I found it at 3AM between my thighs. Too bad it's not a holiday weekend, Taco Grand Rapids could make some serious bank on tourism. It appears that a few stragglers have made it through without paying admission--fuckers. My mothah fuckin' cock suckin cramps have escalated beyond savage. Each womb gripping runner is laughing riotously at my heating pad and pain pills. I've been tossing and turning like a fish outta water all night. I'm overtired and in pain. Argh... I am grateful. I'm menstruating and everything is working. Thank God! *thank you, izzy

If you don't want to scroll down, click to read Butter my Bread ? Some of my favey bloggers don't understand why I butter my bread and don't eat it, so lemme splain. It's not torture. It's a routine I used to have every morning. I love the ritualistic aspect of it. By going through the motion, I can actually feel the texture of the hot buttery toast melting in my mouth and it gives me pleasure. I don't watch it consecutively for 30-minutes. I glance at it in passing while I'm getting ready or while I'm checking email or drinking coffee, or shmoozing on the phone. Knowing it's there brings me comfort. I've had too much change in the past 8 months. I need some semblance of continuity and for some bizarre reason, I find it in toast. I feel guilty because there are so many starving people in the world and to invest money and time into something that you aren't going to use is frivolous and inconsiderate. I know. It's just toast . Still. The g...

I am such a bluejew. Joe Torre has broken up with the Yankees . He's the heart and soul of that team. He's a New York institution. He's got quiet rage that Joe Tore . I love him hard. I don't have a daddy complex and I've never been attracted to older men except for quiet rage Joe Torre. He's wildly and inappropriately sexy and now he's no longer a Yankee. Sigh....

This admission might result in some blogemmies and outright break-up's. I hope it doesn't, but I am ready to live with the consequences of sharing my dirty little secret. Ok. Ready? Set. Go. One of my guilty pleasures is that every single morning, I take a fresh, homemade slice of sourdough bread and pop it into the toaster. I watch as my sumptuous soft bread turns to a golden crispy beige and then I immediately take it out of the toaster, so it burns my fingers just a teeeeeeeeeeny tinnnnnnny bit. I carefully butter the center and each corner, listening to the crunch and watching the hot bread soak up chilled pats of butter and then.... well. I watch my buttered toast for 30 minutes. Not like consecutively or anything, that's creepy. I watch it intermittently. And then I throw it away. I'm on a fucking diet . I feel terribly guilty about it, just not enough to like, you know, stop. Not yet anyway. Cut me some slack. I don't just loooooooove this particular sourdoug...

My apartment manager and I are in the middle of a shit war. Without disclosing the contents of an essay about our shitistory (fear not, you'll be able to read it soon! As if, Schwartzy. Anywho), our shituation has escalated. After taking my toilet's hand in marriage without my consent, he came back to the scene of the crime to (wink-wink) check on who-the-fuck-remembers, so he could chat up a storm and shit himself into a frenzy. Ever since I denied him that porcelain privilege, I've noticed a faint, yet noticeable stench of anal wretchedness that no ass should legally be able to produce, just outside my bathroom window a few times a week. What should be a grassy area between my building and the building next door is a gassy area thanks to shitfucker. While sitting in my kitchen this afternoon, I caught him quietly skulking past me and towards my bathroom window. I ripped open the blinds and said, WHATRYA DOIN?! He was so stunned, he said, Oh, oh, oh, nada, nada-nada-pip...

Remember that post I wrote about the Special Olympics of Grocery Shopping ? I figgered you didn't, so hit the link and catch up. I know, I'm Snatcherella today. Deal. Or flee. This afternoon my sister and I hit our new grocery store because we banned the SOGS store. The manager was an assholic prick about the mentally challenged. After you tell a manager you see on a daily basis that they're stupid and offensive, better to stick to your guns and not give them your business, right? Right. I am here to say that there is an explosive retard revolution happening in the retail grocery industry in shlock angeles that I was not aware of. It's about fuckin' time if you ask me. The lines are longer. Bagging is a cooperative endeavor and if you're paying by credit or check card, you're gonna have to swipe twice on a good day, three on a bad day. Doable, honey. Do-a-ble. Walking into the store today was like going to a sports arena to watch The Norms vs. The Tards in ...

Jesus spams me a lot. When you spend that much time schlepping on a cross, I suppose the idea of not schlepping something feels foreign. He's gotta hawk something, so why not mortgage. He's also sent me life and health insurance quotes. He's so busy with himself that Jesus. In my box today. Not vadge, e-box, he sent me a low interest rate mortgage and vowed not to base his final decision on my religious or sexual orientation. Check out the highlights below . Subject: Rates as low as 4.625% You Could Start Your New Year with a Lower Mortgage Payment! Refinance Today! Spend 2007 with more money every month: More money for credit payments More money for car payments More money for school payments More money for life payments ! Life Payments ? The subtext feels very, for the extortionist, pedophile or embezzler in you . Ok, this is my favorite part: Christian Family Loans is not affiliated with, or sponsored or endorsed by any religion or faith-based institution. This adve...

This morning while pouring my fresh, hot percolated coffee into my favorite mug, out popped, Good morning you stunning piece of ass you. And then I realized... it is. Sadly, my fabulous vinty Wedgewood stove peeled and had to be replaced. My slumlords replaced it with the trailoriest of stoves. This little shit belongs in a triple slide, not my Jewliciouskitch.

So, I'm on a diet. I'm 90% off dairy. No pasta. No bread. It sucks fat mannequin ass. I'm so happy, though because I was finally able to lose 10 pounds. I wasn't in a position to lose weight for too long and not because I couldn't shut my pie hole, for other reasons. My metabolism just might be heading back to normalville and God willing the weight will keep falling off, like dead-leaves, like sands through the hourglass... these are the days of our lives. Wait, that's a soap opera, right? Anyhooch, I found some fuck off hilar squared URLs that I had to share because I'm a freak. If I can't stuff my face with fat, I need to remind myself why I'm being a good diet soldier. I'm not dining on dick at the minute, so I must entertain myself in other ways. Plus size caskets , more chunky but funky caskets and still more . Are you plotzing? Yeah, me too. Moving right along. Fat Cities - no joke fat heaven. Plus Size Yellow Pages - why it's just fa...

Check out Diva Smack's blog . I adore this broad. She's generous, kind, smart, caring and always there when you need her, always. Welcome her back. This incredible dame has been wrongfully accused and harassed by a group of Internet censorship loving nutbags. Check out this post and this one . Run. Read. Now.

Cunt-scream-a-bitch's latest quote is shocking, appalling and disgusting. Of course I had to blog it. "If we took away women’s right to vote, we’d never have to worry about another Democrat president. It’s kind of a pipe dream, it’s a personal fantasy of mine, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. And it is a good way of making the point that women are voting so stupidly, at least single women. It also makes the point, it is kind of embarrassing, the Democratic Party ought to be hanging its head in shame, that it has so much difficulty getting men to vote for it. I mean, you do see it’s the party of women and ‘We’ll pay for health care and tuition and day care — and here, what else can we give you, soccer moms?’" Her stupidity is offensive. PS: Sad as this is to admit, she has a VAGINA.

This is too hilar not to pass along. The guy's response is fabulous . I love him so hard, my vulva lips are twitching. He's got almost as much moxie as I do. Could his balls be as big as my ovaries? Nahhhhh . As for the broad... what is she doing setting women back a hundred years?! Quit with the hedge funds and start creating vadgefunds all by yourself ! You can do it, vagareena. Take a hit for the team and woman up. 25-year-old shameless diva seeks money-money-money What am I doing wrong? Okay, I'm tired of beating around the bush. I'm a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I'm articulate and classy. I'm not from New York. I'm looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don't think I'm overreaching at all. Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips?...

The goddess that is diva Chris COCKer has updated her MySpace page. She's even included a sassy top model photo gallery. I love this queen. Did you know she's a preacher?! Can you be a Catholic preacher? If not, she must convert right now. Have you seen the robes? Divine! She would look gorgeous in this one , it's very dramatic. With an open toe gold heal and the right up-do, this one screams come fuck me . Final robe , I promise. It's just so perfect for a parade, right?!

The meshpucha sped right past The Thornbirds remake today. How did we do it? Baggage. God forbid one piece of luggage be thrown out JUST TO BALANCE the load a bit. Oh, no, no, no. That would be responsible and make others happy. Who cares. They're mine and I love them. My sister is on her way ovah. Can't wait. We had a fabulous social call. I like this, real time blogging. Ok, I'm done now. I'm exhausted and need to make myself horizontal. I am listening to Nessun Dorma--that helps a lot. Do not forget to click over to Boobiethon and submit the divas and/or donate cash. Photo Credit: OuttaContext .

Definitely Thornbirds ...

Cormac Brown has written a beatufiul 6S. Run Read . Now: 24fps

Flaunt your beautiful boobies for Boobiethon this year and/or make a donation. Ya like em'? You want keep em'? Save em'. It's been a surreal few days. I think my family is fast becoming a poorly made, goyisha revision of The Thornbirds. I just need a gay priest to fall in love with. Know any? I've also been fielding questions about the whereabouts of The Kid . I'm trying to handle it graciously. My responses are contingent upon my mood. It's just too overwhelming sometimes to engage in deathversations. There are two questions that bug the shit out of me. How did he die? I am guilty of asking that one, too. The second one I wouldn't dream of asking, How old was he ? As if a certain age justifies the death. I know. I know. I know, everyone deals with death their own way. Sing that song and dance somewhere else, sister. By Sunday, I was on dead dog overload, so when I was asked how The Kid was doing, I said, he's fine . The guy responded and said, I...