Don't wish... don't start

Hey bitches and whores. We know it's been a really long time since we last posted. We see you all shiver with antici........















....pation. Well, we're pleased to tell you that you'll have a little longer to wait. We're far too busy and important to blog. In the meantime, here is a video to whet your appetites. Ew. PS - This video is dedicated to Gemma. Hey gurl. how r u hows thinks going. your reali pritty.

Peace Out
TTFL's.

Disney's Gay Agenda

"Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns. Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons? You're the saddest bunch I ever met but you can bet before we're through:
Mister, I'll make a man out of you."

What up bitches. We know we haven't written a blog in a long time, but we've been way too famous of late. You should see the looks we don't get when we walk down the street. Quite frankly we're sick of writing for undereducated, underwhelming, underwear wearing dummkopf's. Anyway, thanks for being here, we missed you.

We are here to expose the evil that is Disney. A recent article (Written by some gays) was lamenting that Disney grossly under represents the gay community in their films. Bullshit.  During our extensive investigations, we have discovered Disney's evil plot, their "Gay Agenda".  When watching Disney, us right wing fundies expect to find wholesome christian values. Like we should get married when we're 16 (right Ariel?) because how else can we have the sexuals? We learn to judge people who are different. We learn that animals can talk, and if we believe hard enough, they will become our sidekick, complete with cracking one liners - especially if they're black. But since the first Disney film, there has been a commie, homo-loving, left-wing agenda. This is unacceptable - ain't nobody wanna see Bambi with two dad's - am I right ladies?

Disney films are littered with gay characters and lingering homosexual looks. They may not be apparent to the dregs of society (hey Gemma, how's things wit chu?), But they are abundantly clear to us. And we write to you today to expose this seedy side of Disney films. We cannot have gay people thinking their lifestyle is acceptable and exposing our children to this pornography must cease and also desist. The following is a comprehensive list of films to avoid. Not just for children, but for you also. 

1) Mulan. Where do we begin? This is quite possibly the gayest film we have ever seen. There are lesbians, gays, and all colours of the gaybow. Firstly, it is quite apparent that Mulan was raised as a boy for the majority of her life. No one wonder he is confused about her gender and dresses up as a man for most of the film. He then has the audacity to come onto a man. Shang.


 Let's look at Shang, shall we? Shang has daddy issues and is confused about his sexuality. In our opinion, he needs a good few electric shocks and a good thumping with a bible. What was his family thinking putting him in charge of a camp full of burly men (and Mulan)? He has blatant homosexual tendencies. For example, he is buff; he has long, well groomed hair; he often does not wear a shirt; and he requests that all the men in the camp reach the top of his pole for an unknown reward. That's gay.




2) Pocahontas. Poke YOUR hontas. We're not entirely sure what that means, but we do know it's gay. You may sit your kids down to watch this film, thinking that it is a harmless tale about how nature must give way to progress, but alas, no. First we have the unsavory relationship between Wiggins and Ratcliffe, but it is nothing compared to the perverted gay love triangle between young Thomas, John Smith and Pocahontas. What's that you say? Pocahontas is female? You poor, naive fuckwit. With that jawline, Pocahontas is either a man, or Idina Menzel. 

3) Beauty and the Beast. Gosh, where do we even begin? Cogsworth and Lumiere, am I right fellas? It is not clear how long they have been engaging in anal sex, but it is quite obvious from their sickly demeanor, they both have a gay STI (which we all know are much worse than heterosexual STI's - this is Gods way of weeding out the gays). We leave you with a final word on this movie, summing up our point. Gaston.

4) Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs (Aka the Great Disney Orgy of 37')

Ok. Come on people. 7 men, living together in one little cottage in the woods. Hehe woods. They whistle on their way to work together, where it is apparent they are jewelers (A clearly gay profession) and come home and do probably unspeakable acts of gayness. Then God sends them a woman to cure them of their disease... and what do they do? They hire a witch to get rid of her, until the handsome prince comes and fucks them all. IT HAPPENED. It really happened!

5) Sleeping Beauty. Yeah, so three "fairies" (a better description would be predators) set up an elaborate rouse to take the princess deep into the forest to their house of ill repute, where they raise her to be a young lesbian. They are grooming her for her marriage to the Evil Queen. But then she meets the Prince, and try's to do the sex with him and things get ugly. (PS - we also have a theory the Prince is homosessual for the dragon anyway - did you see the scene where he put his sword in it?) The Evil queen gets jealous, and sets the dragon on everyone. Because as a lesbian, she is clearly mentally unstable.


These are but a few examples of Disney's gay agenda, here are a few honourable mentions:

• Tangled umm yeah... so... Flynn gives Rapunzel a haircut at the end. He does it in one quick move... her hair is perfectly layered and quaffed (is that a thing?) and it perfectly accentuates her cheekbones. (Gay). PS Donna Murphy is in it. Fabulous!

• Anastasia. We know it's not a disney movie, so SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE SOMEONE DROPS A HOUSE ON YOU! We just wanted to give it an honourble mention... Two men dressing up an impressionable young Liz Callaway in fabulous outfits and teaching her how to act like a woman. It's My Fair Lady all over again. Also Bernadette Peters, the High Priestess of Faggotry, is in the movie.

• Enchanted. James Marsden's tights are pretty gay. But then there was the scene where he whipped out his "sword" for Patrick Dempsey...

• Aladdin and Genie. Totes doin it on the side.

• Simba's gay uncles ("guncles") Timon and Pumba.

Yes, it's sad but true. So remember, next time you sit down for a "harmless" disney film... you may be sitting down to watch gay pornography. The gay agenda is everywhere. You must be vigilant, otherwise the next thing you know gay people may be given the same rights as ordinary people. They might get married to each other. They may infiltrate society and become doctors, teachers and musical theatre performers. This must not happen!

Peace out gays. See you in Hell.

PS In the off chance you are a complete moron, or don't have a sense of humour... we actually love the gays. We bow at the altar of the lesbitarian church, we recognise Cher as an official deity, and we're willing to put our gayness up against anyone else's. Especially Shang. And his wang. Haha it's funny cos it rhymes.  

Your Love Wont Pay My Bills (But it will give me chlamydia) PS: Penis

The best things in life are free. But you can give them to the birds and bees. I want money (that's what I want X3)


Ladies and gentlemen (and ladies who look like gentlemen... Gemma). What makes a man get up early each morning to work in a menial job from 9-5, 6 days a week? What makes a prossie "lick it like a lollipop" on the street corners of Islington? What makes Matthew Morrison continually and repeatedly humiliate himself and the musical theatre community week after week on Glee?





MONEY. (That's what I want X3)




You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one... something, something ... fun. You may also say that money, like the size of your boyfriends penis, doesn't matter. Bullshit. Bull. Fucking. Shit. Bullshit. Money makes the world go round, it keeps your fat ass mamma in nylon jumpsuits and crocs. It keeps your father's mistress(es) at bay (We've been meaning to have this talk with you for a while... sorry you found out like this). It put your dumb-ass through Tafe, and is probably going to get you laid. Know what we're saying? Islington. It's a metaphor... except not. Fuck you.


We have some issues with money here. We live a lifestyle which the French would call "beyond our means". Chauffeurs, caviar, pool boys (we don't have a pool, but he sure does clean out the pipes) and weekly luge lessons. We've tried cutting down, firstly by ending our weekly shopping trips to Islington... wait, what? And we've made huge sacrifices. It's painful to admit this, but guys.... we only have one Blu-ray player. It's disgusting we know, stop judging us like a southern baptist in a gay bar! Having multiple Blu-ray players is a basic human right, and if we had a second one, it would free up our time to help those poor starving children in Middle-Earth and to solve the escalating crisis in Narnia.

But alas, we are pöör. Hey, have you ever wondered whether Lindsay Lohan's carpet matches her drapes? It's been a burning question for a while. Her carpet's probably been burning for a while too. Where were we? Umm... where did you go? Were you looking up pictures of Lindsay Lohan's crotch? You disgusting gutter snipe! Oh wait, you know who's pubes would be interesting to see? Angela Lansbury's. We know it's gross, because she is in her early hundreds... but do pubes go grey when the hair on your head does? I guess that's a question we'll learn the answer to when we get to heaven. Or turn 35.


Back to the topic at hand. How dare you distract us, you vulgar hussies. You public school educated tramps! And if you think the above paragraph was to stretch the length of this blog, you are so wrong. You are sorely mistaken. Incorrecto. Wrong. Neinte. Nein. WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! NOW STOP BADGERING US WITH YOUR SILLY DISTRACTIONS. Ps - penises are funny. Like, not funny "ha ha", but funny "you want to put that where?!" And it's the funniest thing how many penis references there are in every day life. I mean the smallest things (oh, not yours sweetie, it's of a good length and girth.) can remind you of penises. I mean we can't even look at a banana without feeling giddy. Penises are everywhere. Even in musical theatre.


As we were traveling to visit people over Easter we were listening to a simple musical theatre song. Naturally it was musical theatre - we are two strong gay men. The song we were listening to was "Grow for me" from Little Shop of Horrors. I know, we're laughing already. If you think that this is a beautiful and typical "I want" song, you are so naive. When we heard it we knew instantly that we wanted to share it's hilarity wit chu. We couldn't make a whole blog out of it, so we inserted it (haha get it) into this one. Let us sing you a few bars. (Try not to drool)


I'm begging you sweetly
I'm down on my knees
Now please, grow for me!


mmhmmm.


And later:


I've pinched you back hard
like I'm supposed to


And the discovery he makes... it needs blood to grow. Just sayin'


Anyway, we're really poor. Our penises are droopy and unmanicured. On an unrelated topic, we have started a charity... to help penises. Because they need love too. They need love too. Make all donations to the name of the charity "PJ and Kathryn".... email us for more details.


Happy Holidays y'all!


Peace out,
The Two Fat Ladies.




PS, We want to take you behind the middle school and get you pregnant.

The Mystery of the Red Underwear...

Mrs and Mrs Willis-Sinclair, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense. Which leads me to our next transgression, Reverend Mother… we were singing up on that mountain. If you don’t get those references you don’t deserve to be alive. Ok, we’ll stop with our incoherent nonsense, and move gaily forward to the matter at hand.

For some time, there has been a pair of men’s red underwear in the corner space of our bathroom. Where once slept our house elf, Dobby, now rests this pair of mysterious underwear. At this stage we are unaware if it is the final horcrux, but we have a few more tests to run. That is neither here nor there, the main question is: where did they come from in the first place? 

The underwear has been there for quite some time. At least, we think it has. Going off our bathroom cleaning schedule… they may have been there anywhere from 2 weeks to 2 months. Dobby is soooo getting socks for Easter. We’ve both been ignoring them for a while, believing them to belong to the other. PJ, being of the male variety (usually) could quite easily own a pair of men’s red underwear. Kathryn, being of the male variety (usually) could also quite easily own a pair of men’s red underwear. Seriously. Kathryn does actually own men’s underwear… which is why PJ, knowing that he does not own cheap polyester blend underwear, presumed that they belonged to her. 

Tonight the tension was unbearable. And Kathryn decided to broach the subject of the mysterious red underwear. Which is how we discovered that neither of us actually owns the underwear. Nor do we know where they came from, or how they came to be in our Upper East Side Pied-á-Terre. We decided to sit down, and logically work through all the possibilities:

1) 

The underwear in question belongs to Gemma Brownlow. Gemma has not visited our humble abode in quite some time (bitch), but it seems the kind of immature prank she would play. Then we came to our senses and realized that Gemma does not wear underwear of this variety. She wears Calvin Klein cotton briefs (don’t ask how we know, but lets just say she’s pretty well endowed – if ya know what we’re saying? Wait, what are we saying?                                    

2) One of us has had an illicit affair with a married businessman who wears red underwear. His name is Gary Dixinormous, and he’s a junior marketing  associate who enjoys Macramé conventions and leaving red underwear in people’s bathrooms. Upon further discussion, we realized Gary does not actually exist, but rather, was wishful thinking on our part. Well, not exactly both of us. Shalom, Gary… we’ll always have that fateful night in St. Louis. I’ll never forget your eyes… or your flexibility.

3)  The demon lady strikes again. Yes. Our neighbour of the feminine persuasion who may or may not be possessed by a demon, the devil, or Miley Cyrus. She selfishly continues to plague our existence through her continual living. This seems like the sort of thing she would do. Just for shits and giggles. Out of all  the possibilities… this one seems the most likely. Therefore, we have found our culprit.

Why would she put red underwear in our bathroom? We know not, but in a time of ancient Gods, Warlords, and Kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero.

She was Xena, a mighty princess forged in the heat of battle.

The power

The passion

The danger

Her courage will change the world. And kick our demon neighbours ass. Or, maybe just do her. Allegedly. We don’t want to put Xena in a box. Unless it’s Gabrielle’s.

Peace out mo fo’s

PS – Brodey, did you happen to leave red underwear at our house?

I used to dream that I would have sex at some point in my adult life

Recently, your favourite blogging duo, or duet if you will, viewed a production of The Wedding Singer. We’ve all seen the movie version of The Wedding Singer, haven’t we? Well if you haven’t, think of an Adam Sandler movie you have seen. Same thing. You know the scene after Robbie Hart has just gotten stood up at the altar (and come on, wouldn’t you stand him up as well?) and he goes back to work and is all depressed and self harmy? Yeah, it’s the scene where he loses his shit and sings “Love Stinks”. I don’t think he means this literally, however, it’s open to interpretation. Anyway, he points out that he, and a few hideously deformed guests at the wedding are never going to find love. (Don’t worry – there’s a happy ending!)

These people consist of a woman who is one heart attack away from Jesus, another lady with sideburns (not everyone can pull off sideburns, right Gemma?) and now you get the idea. We strongly disagree with the premise of this scene. In our experience, it’s generally the average Joe’s (or Joann’s – no judgment here, we don’t want to put anyone in a box – unless you’re into that… if ya know what we’re saying?) who have trouble finding love.

I mean, think about it. Pretty people find other pretty people, they have awesome pretty people sex and have awesome pretty people babies. Ugly people find other ugly people, have ugly people sex, and have ugly people children. It’s people in middle, on the cusp, if you will, who have issues. For example let’s look at Hollywood. We’ll start with the uglies. Roseanne Barr found Tom Arnold. True the marriage didn’t last… but that wasn’t for superficial reasons, apparently he just had a small penis. True story.

Now the pretty people. For example, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck. They are hot. And you wanna lick them up the back. And so do they. And they do. That leaves us with the poor average Joe’s. Just look at Jennifer Aniston. Now, she’s kind of pretty. She can’t act, but she has a solid career based on a hairstyle… but she’s no Angelina Jolie (right Brad Pitt?). She’s had so much trouble in love, and has resorted to dating such undesirables as Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson and Anne Heche. (We may have made that last one up.)

Which brings us to story time. It’s half past 3 on the rocket clock… something, something open wide, come inside, something, something play school. That is fucked up guys! We have a demonic neighbour, or neigbouress if you will. Well… we’re 78.87% sure it’s a female. We know he is a demon because she flinched the other day when we said “christe” in front of him. We’re not stupid, we watch Supernatural. Mainly for the hot guys, and clinging desperately to the possibility of Dean hooking up with Castiel (note from Kathryn: “Let it go PJ… let it go”). 

Anyway, this demon walks past our windows muttering in her demonic growl such phrases as “you could have fucking supported me, Anne Heche” and other choice expletives. Look, we’re not physiologists, but in our professional opinion this demon is one crazy mo fo in Mo Ho. See what we did there? We’re so funny. And ridiculously good looking. So why don’t we have boyfriend? Fuck, it sucks to me! Oops… don’t you hate it when you’re saying something important only to get carried away with a musical theatre reference. But seriously… why don’t we have a boyfriend? Or in Kathryn’s case… Anne Heche.

Instead of joining a dating site, we thought it would just be easier to do it here. Please find below our “profiles”. We think you’ll be impressed… try to hide your boners or lady wood… whichever applies.

Kathryn “willputoutforcash” Sinclair

Interested in: boxes. Get it? It’s a metaphor!

Skills: can tie allen’s snake with tongue (that is not a metaphor)

Quote of the day: “Do you guys think it’s OK to drink while you’re pregnant if you’re planning on giving the baby up for adoption?”

Wants: Someone to watch over me, someone who can climb every mountain and solve a problem like Maria. Physically a Julie Andrews look-a-like.

Favourite movie: Fatal Attraction in a double bill with The Sound of Music

PJ “boxhater” Willis

Interested in: stamps

Skills: knows all the lyrics to Evita

Quote of the day: “parking your car is similar to giving a good blowjob… always stay between the lines”

Wants: World Peace.

Favourite movie: Free Willy

And scene.

Yo Momma Say You Ugly!

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No one has ever gone past my hymen.

Whores, tramps, girls, boys and the undecided. And Gemma. We're here to talk down to you today about a very important issue. Well... not so much. We're really just gonna talk a lot of shit again. This will probably be our last blog about being a roommate. We are currently going through what the English call a divorce. Please understand it is entirely your fault. We don't love you anymore, and if you hadn't of been born, the world would have been a much happier place and mummy and daddy would have stayed together. Get out of our sight you talentless piece(s) of shit!

Seriously though, we're fine. No one is moving out despite constant escape attempts from the one they call "Kathryn" (hopefully that's ambiguous enough and you wont figure out who we mean). Also, we've honestly run out of things to talk about regarding our roommatedness. Ew that kind of sounds like we've been mating. Honestly no one is more disgusted by that notion than we. As a result this will be our final blog regarding us living together. (Well, probably anyway).

Some have called our relationship unhealthy. Sinister even. For tax purposes only… but it’s so much more than that. One of the most important things about being a good roommate is that you have to adore each other. Or, be heavily drugged out on cough medicine and fess nasal spray at least 90% of the time like we are. But seriously guys, we love each other. In a strictly platonic way. Except for that one time behind the haystack – but we’ve promised never to talk about that again. Oops. Just did. Shit. Excuse us whilst we dry retch. In this blog we’re going to give you a few tips… or titbits if you will, about how we function on a daily basis. Not bowel functions... that's next week...

Mostly we get on like two lesbians and a U-Haul trailer, but we do have our fair share of arguments. Usually about whether Julie Andrews was robbed of her Academy Award for The Sound of Music. Healthy roommates have fights. It’s good for the soul and your oily t-section. (You might want to get that checked out… just sayin’ – it’s offensive.)

Both of us are currently seeking employment. Well not actively, but we do occasionally have dreams about applying for jobs we have no qualifications for. Neither of us has any marketable skills, unless you count being able to tie an Allen’s Snake with your tongue. 

One of us has a music degree (as if that’s even worth the paper it was forged on – but it is from a fine institution. Hahahahaha jokes.) And the other would have a degree by now if he too had slept with his professors. But hey, we’re not all sluts who have so many track marks that we have to start injecting between our toes. Oh… yeah… drugs are bad kids. Stay off the blow, it leads to bad life decisions. Like that time we accidentally watched a full episode of Glee and found ourselves enjoying the black chick (wait, is that racist?) and her terrible acting as she pops some nodules. That was harsh. We’re sorry token black/fat chick on Glee. You’re perfection. Ok… we are really racist. And fatist. We’re seeking help. Well not so much – but we’ve been watching a lot of My Wife and Kids. Baby steps… it’s a process.

Anyway, while we’re both being supported financially by our girl Julia Gillard, we’ve tried to be budget conscious… you know, we’ve cut out the expensive drugs and the hookers, and since we’ve decided to remove all the negative things in our lives we’ve stopped paying rent. Paying rent is the worst decision we ever made. Our landlords are totally cool with it – in fact they write to us constantly with eviction notices. We’ve told them Big Brother is off the air now, but they don’t get. Those jokers.

We have found cooking the nightly meal to be a good bonding experience. PJ does most of the edible cooking, while Kathryn cooks the more novelty dinners. Such as McDonalds and Pizza Hut... and on one memorable occasion, glue rice and vomit flavoured beef stroganoff. We cannot say more for the simple act of having a nice meal together. Especially if it’s Chinois. Which is Chinese for Chin-wahs.

Well, that’s about all we have time for. We’re sorry this one didn’t really make you laugh. I mean really it was a waste of your time to read it wasn’t it? Sometimes we like to get serious, and give you something you can really sink your teeth into. You know like Faust or Balzac. (Hehehe Balzac).

We like you all like we like our girls drinks... spiked as f**k.

Peace out mofo's