Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Pistola goes south of the border in honor of Thanksgiving and Eva Longoria


How was your Thanksgiving?

If you want to know how mine was email me personally. Or don't. I don't care.

I had a few days off for Thanksgiving so I decided to secure a celebrity interview while I was away from the office. It was hard to find someone relevant, interesting and available on such an important holiday, so I decided to head south of the border where they don't celebrate Thanksgiving (I think). Yes, dear readers, instead of spending time with my family engaging in such familial traditions as sloth and gluttony, I went to el Mexico.

Pistola sits down for turkey dinner with Eva Longoria Parker (oops! should we still call her that?)

Pistola Whipped Gets a Life (PWGAL): Eva Longoria Parker! How in la hell are you? How is your show: the Real Housewives?

Eva Longoria Parker (ELP): Oh fine. Thanks. I am now going as just Eva Longoria and my show is actually Desperate Housewives.

PWGAL: Why did you drop the Parker? And yes! Desperate Housewives! That seems so much more fitting than Real Housewives.

Eva Longoria (EL): Ahem. Well, yes. I'm getting a divorce from Tony Parker.

PWGAL: Why would you divorce him? He's a hot piece of ass. And rich.

EL: He was cheating on me. You haven't heard? It's all over the press.

PWGAL: The only press I read is Midwest Fishing.

EL: Well, he was caught sexting another woman. Wouldn't you leave your husband if he cheated on you?

PWGAL: I'm not sure. I probably wouldn't be in that predicament because who would cheat on this? [Pistola pulls down sweatpants to reveal a pair of SPANX].

EL: Um, I thought this interview was supposed to be about my Mexican heritage?

PWGAL: OLE, senorita! Hold your horses! We'll get to that. What were we discussing before you interrupted me?...Tony cheating on you? So how is sexting cheating on you again?

EL: Sending images of your genitals and sexual suggestions via text isn't cheating?

PWGAL: Hell no. That's normal communication. What else is texting for? I send sexual suggestions out to my entire contact list at least cinco times a day.

EL: Well, that's disgusting.

PWGAL: Moving on then, is Thanksgiving sad this year now that your husband left you?

EL: No, it's not sad. I'm spending time with my family and friends. And for the record, I left Tony.

PWGAL: Eva, you don't have to be act so tough on this blog interview. Virtually no one reads it. Come on, remember back to when you and Tony were just starting off? What about all those years you spent together? Don't they mean anything now?

EL: Tony and I met about three years ago. What would you like to ask me about my Mexican heritage?

PWGAL: Right. Right. Do you know Antonio Banderas?

EL: I know him. He's Spanish though.

PWGAL: Is he single?

EL: No. He's married to Melanie Griffith.

PWGAL: Have you ever sexted him?

EL: NO! What else do you want to ask because I'm about to leave, you disgusting bitch.

PWGAL: Do you have that temper because you're a Mexican?

EL: Get me the hell out of here!

PWGAL: WAIT! One more question. Would it be weird if I asked you for Tony's phone number?

EL: Throws microphone at Pistola's head and leaves interview.

And there is Pistola's contribution to your Thanksgiving celebration.

De Nada,
La Pistola Whippedalez

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The sun vacuum leads to lack of happy place...


Well, it is yet another gray day to add upon the many gray days ahead of us. Us being the fearless Minnesotans of Minnesota.

Days like this I rely upon my happy place to make it through. Y’all know what I mean: our sunny beaches, our love nooks, our ninth innings of the last World Series game right before the win…our happy places.

But when I drew upon my happy place today, it was simply no longer happy.

Yes, folks. Pistola has lost her happy place.

For the 32 years I’ve been walking (sometimes drunkenly) this earth, I’ve also been going to Ten Mile Lake in northern Minnesota. Our family has a small, Friday the 13th-esque cabin nestled among the pines, overlooking deep, mysterious blue waters. I spent every summer of my youth playing tennis, picking mushrooms, identifying birds, fishing, swimming, jumping off (getting pushed from) the dock, watching massive thunderstorms tumble across the waters. Naively believing that this place would always bring me to a place of contentment, a state of calm that matches the lake on a still, hot summer day.

No longer.

Now when I think of Ten Mile anxiety fills me.

Let me tell you why:

1.) White guilt. Some would say I have a 'gambling problem'. And let me assure you, dear readers, it isn't because of the rush of blood to my head when I hit on a slot or the surge of adrenaline from a challenging gaze across the poker table. No, it's because every time I enter a casino I feel the need to throw money at the very people we kicked off of Ten Mile in order to make ourselves happy.

2.) Guilt displacement. I blame Native Americans for my gambling problem and that seems wrong.

3.) Family. I haven't admitted to my family yet that I gambled away the deed to the cabin in a busted up game of 5-card stud behind the casino. Sorry about that.

4.) Skin cancer. You remember the days when the first thing you did in the morning was pop on your swimsuit, run out the front door, hop in the lake and get a sunburn that made your skin feel like it was about six sizes too small for your body? And you'd sleep like shit that night, but the next morning you'd do exactly the same thing? Well, those days are over. Now every mole on my body is already in stage four skin cancer.

And now my happy place has become the creation and solution to all my problems: the bar. So what can one do? I guess I'm off to my happy place. Bottoms up!

Pourin' one out for ya,
PBR Whipped

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Voting leads to thinking...

Buenos Noches!

So, I did this thing we Americans call vote tonight.

Whilst I was perusing the ballot a few thoughts crossed my mind, like:

'Who are these people?'

'I'm hungry for a bear claw right now.'

'Who are these people again?'

'Would a bear claw be fresh enough so late in the day to be good?'

And, last but not least,

'All these combination running mates makes me wonder what other combos I would vote for...'

Which leads us to our next bit, Pistola Whipped cracks the combination.
(I know, you come up with a better name).

Cheese and crackers

Gimme 20-year aged cheddar and some Pepperidge or straight up saltines and EZ Cheese, I don't care which way you serve it, that's a combination that would get stuff done in Congress.

Lady Gaga f. Beyonce in 'Telephone'
That Jamaican accent that L. Gaga uses when she sings 'party' and then when Beyonce rips in channeling Tina Turner in 'We Don't Need Another Hero' during the breakdown KILLS! Put those bitches on a ballot and you got my vote any November 2.

Ralph Nader and Winona LaDuke.

The long part of Dennis Miller's hair and Tyra Banks' forehead

Everyone's minds would be so blown by this powerful and glorious combination that things would just get done. And get done fiercely!

Pistola Whipped is a democratic nation and welcomes your entries...

Got out and voted,
P. Whipped