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There are two types of people in this world, the cocksuckers and the straights. This has nothing to do with sexual orientation, more like a mindset kind of thing. The straights think positively about society. They generally see the best in others and hope we’ll all one day play hopscotch through a world-wide utopia free from mockery, scorn and ridicule. The cocksuckers, on the other ball, hate almost everything the straights like, sometimes precisely because people they hate like it. They generally laugh when old people slip on ice and have resigned themselves to knowing the world is pretty much a clusterfuck of dumb opinions and guys who think they’re cooler than they really are. I am a cocksucker, and a very proud one at that, which is why I love Joel McHale. And why I’m really worried…
Joel McHale is a glorious Thanksgiving feast of moral turpitude. Each week, he’s given free reign to absolutely ruin and permanently disfigure dozens of television and film’s most beloved stars and starlets. And he does it with relish, like a goddamn cocksucker should, pouring salt into each and every wound while siphoning off every last misery and grief-filled tear to inflate his already inflated ego. I love it. Just knowing a man so merciless and vindictive exists inspires me to new and exciting levels of cocksucking. But that merciless and vindictive man, that cocksucker, isn’t going to exist for long…
Joel McHale recently shot his own pilot for NBC. I have no idea if the Peacock Network will move forward with the project, but it doesn’t really matter. The straights, the non-cocksuckers, have gotten a hold of Joel McHale, and it won’t be long. It won’t be long until the punches start to be pulled and the ire turns to optimism. Because the damn dirty straights don’t like us cocksuckers. They use words like “jaded” and “bitter” to describe us and sleep well at night knowing, just knowing they’re better human beings for baking that fruit pie for the neighbors. Well, I like Joel the way he is. I like his pompous irreverence and old man candor. Remember Chevy Chase? He used to have the candor of a thousand year old curmudgeon, but that was long ago now…
Chevy Chase was the biggest cocksucker in the world between the years of 1975 and 1976. He openly blasphemed about the possibility he might be God, ridiculed his own fans for wishing they were him, and t-bagged President Gerald Ford for months straight without ceasing. The whole thing was beautiful, one giant middle finger of sarcasm and hate speech directed toward the man, but a funny thing happened on the way to hell, the straights started to think his more delicate jabs were hilarious. And soon he was on the cover of every straight magazine in the world. They called his weaker material subversive and edgy, promised him money, power, women, and unlimited fame if he’d start to censor himself a little bit, maybe clean up a little for Uncle Floyd and Aunt Suzie. Pretty soon he just lost it. He lost that lovin’, cocksuckin’ feelin’, and the real derision, the real despisal of humanity itself was gone. Now, he’s a full-blown straight, a PG-13 pinnacle of suburbia. And Joel McHale might be next…
It’s selfish of me to spite Joel McHale for taking money from the straights. A cocksucker that isn’t growing is dying. But the possibility, just the mere chance that acidic-tongued rogue could follow Eddie Murphy into Dr. Doolittle 9: Talking Cats Fucking In A Barn While Interacting With Humans is enough to curl my tongue into vengeful fury. Right now, Joel McHale is a prime Chevy Chase, but if he converts, if he sells out the view of life we all hold so hatingly, maybe that means us cocksuckers have it all wrong? No. No, it just cannot be. Raining on weddings and slandering the accepted is the tried and true way of the rebel, the only path toward true mental orgasm. Joel McHale can’t turn his back on all that joyful pestilence? Can he avoid the light and act from the codgerly shadows? Bill Murray can, he’s the same old asshole…
For the last thirty-three years, Bill Murray has been a perennial cocksucker of the year candidate. Whether it’s getting hammered and driving a golf cart in public before using his fame to divert almost all repercussion or smacking his own children and taking a gin with him off the diving board in Rushmore, Bill Murray is the Saint Paul of cocksuckerism (Frank Sinatra is the Jesus). Sure, he’s taken some straight money now and again, but it’s always been to practically play his emotionally-detached and aloof self. Remember Kingpin? His sly, self-assured mockery of all involved made that film. Maybe that’s the path for Joel McHale…
Joel McHale is at the crossroads right now. He can trade in his middle finger for pithy zingers or throw up the other one for his vindictive ideals. Either way, The Soup is about to make its 0-face. Enjoy it while you can, maybe Tivo a few episodes for nostalgic purposes, but don’t come crying to me when Joel McHale no longer giggles with you as Nick Nolte gets another DUI and Lindsay Lohan’s entire left boob pops out of her MTV Movie Awards dress. You might even expect him to shake his head and say things like, “The tragedy of young Hollywood is simply boundless.” You’ve been warned. Joel McHale has become too popular. He’s destined for entertaining the whole country, not just the fifteen-to-forty-five jerk-off demographic. But how will he entertain them? I hope it’s by cultivating the bile, spewing the intolerance, and in doing so, remaining a cocksucker we can all be proud of.
Dear Cocksucker Who Is About To Email Me,
Yes, I know I just ended the story with a preposition. But how else was I supposed to end it? Anything else would have been awkward syntax. Go fuck yourself.
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