Monday, March 15, 2010

Anatranny of a Murder...

Well, after crawling back from the brink of death after gagging over 'Telephone' -- and subsequently scarfing up death's poisoned sandwiches by watching and re-watching it in all its nearly 10 minute glory -- I'm finally at a place (drunk) to talk about it.

The lesbian theme starts off strong and disturbingly muscular...

Cooter -- thanks, but no thanks. She might not have a dick NOW, but sex reassignment surgery has come a long way. I'm just sayin'...

Yes, that is smoke. Yes, this is also where I began to have heart palpitations from all the fierceness.

This big black bitch might be my favorite moment, well...ever. Here she is owning the world in an all too brief moment.

Give it a Mugler stutter step...

B makes her first appearance, breaking Gags out of jail. You know what they say, once you kill a gotta eat some fish.

B clearly getting ready to stick her face betwixt Gaga's legs. What would Hova think of all this?

Beyonce couldn't give less of a shit, because she's going full on dyke and Mr. Carter-Knowles be damned.

Call her mellow yellow. B goes to meet Tyrese, who is apparently still alive...? Though not for long...

"Sometimes I feel like I live in Grand Central Stay-SHUN. " That's it. ACT! Throw an Oscar in this face.

A pussy sandwich? Meanwhile, I love the queens turning it in the kitchen while the Lady poses in what has to be the must-have accessory of 2010. Call all you want, but you're not gonna get my telephone hat.

I know this is Gaga's song and video, but B blatantly steals the show. That face. That wig. That jacket. Those thighs. I think we've just been introduced to Gaga Fierce.

Speaking of epic (read: tranny) faces...

By the way, this recipe is my diet for the next 5 months as I prepare to enter a speedo, as being dead will be the only way it'll happen.

Hot cakes and hamhocks, anyone? Hold that thought, I've got an incoming call. No, I don't want to switch my long distance carrier. This isn't even a real phone. Yes, I'll hold.

Oh you know, I'm just standing here, posing, nonchalant as usual, with this phone in my hair. Just a regular day in the Haus of Gaga.

After stealing her honey, that selfish motherfucker Tyrese got what was coming to him. He'll soon be back to singing for sodas on the bus.

And here we have the inevitable dance routine, amidst a sea of corpses.

Gaga bless America!

Blow-up Doll Beyonce, now available in Buxom Brunette and Sapphic Sasha.

Flanking their pussy wagon, Gaga and B give their all while looking impossibly fabulous. This is what pop music is all about. Not giving a shit.

They give one last pose for the cameras...

Before driving off into the sunset, a la Thelma and Louise, leaving a path of destruction and tranny heels in their wake. To be continued...? Let's hope so.

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