Lindsay Lohan: rehab

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843 visitors today on my myspace blog!
What is you people doing? Where did you find me? Am I on tv? When do I get the paycheck cuz all these people could be payin my electric bill or something. Shoot. Speaking of visiting, I hope you like my new myspace blog design. It's crazy but I like it. My friend did it. He nasty. Sometime he whisper thangs in my ears on the bus that make me laugh so hard I fart. Then people start looking at me and I yell at them to stop they lookin and then I tell them what he told me. It's always nasty so they always get offended and ask to be let off at the next stop. Hos.

Naked girls
I am so sick of seeing half-naked and fully-naked girls wearing sweaters and hiding behind pillows. They on magazines, on tv, on line and just everywhere. Why do a girl feel she has to be naked to get attention? Are we that retarded? Please. I can see talent when I see it, but when I see thigh-high boots, hands over naked t***ies, a dirty smile and hair hanging down like a bad Carmen Electra wig, I turn the other way. Please. Naked girls is stupid.

Lindsay Lohan on crack
This girl is going to be dead in one year. Mark my words. She is going to end up on crack along Hollywood Blvd with white puffy ooze draining from her nose and a pack of Virginia Slims in her fist... just like Aretha Franklin. When she died, I cried for three days. Not many people know she is dead. She keeps "makin appearances," but my friend Trinnka showed me this website that got photos of her giant body dead cold on a examination table with a teddy bear on the table to the right. She died cuz, and I ain't trying to be funny, from choking on her own neck fat. She was asleep one night on her tour bus and the fat on her neck just got to be too heavy, and caused her neck to cave in. She died peacefully, but not before choking for twelve hours, according to the corroner's report. And when Keanu Reeves died, I cried as well. He was so handsome, but then when he got retarded on that horse and had to blow a tube to move around I stopped liking him. But then when he died I felt bad for not liking him for being retarded, so I liked him again. But it were too late. He was dead. and retarded.

Nicole Kidman's fake nose
I watched a movie at friend's house tonight. It had Nicole Kidman in it and she played a woman who was dispressed with a fake plastic nose on. I loved it. She is so talented. Why did she marry that ugly country singer with the lady haircut? Men do not need to be getting no blonde stripes up in they hairs. That's, well...not straight acting ok? I won't go there cuz the alternative lifestlye is just fine by me, but if you marring Nicole Kidman, please be straight. One gay ex-husband is enough okaaaaay!?

-LR

Squash Buckets

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Chapstick
I stuck a tube of chaptstick up my nose by mistake this morning. I was answering the phone and applying the chapstick, then sneezed and WHOOP right up my nose went the chapstick. I felt so foolish. I blew as hard as a could out my nose, but the thing went further and further into my nasal cavity, down my throat. I ended up swallowing it and yes, it came out the other end. Chapstick expensive so I wash it off and use it again. Do not judge.

Janet needs it NOW!
"July 30, 2006 -- JANET Jackson confesses she enjoyed sex more than her lovers did - until she met Jermaine Dupri. "I feel like I finally met my match," she tells Essence magazine. "In relationships it was always the guy telling me, 'OK, hold on, wait a minute.' I'd ask my girlfriends, 'Aren't we supposed to be the ones who say, 'Wait, not tonight, I have a headache'? This happened through two [marriages] for me. I thought something's not right here. But with Jermaine I don't have to say anything; he knows I'm ready. Any time, any place."

Thanks for sharing Janet. I guess if you on a bus or in a parked car and you like "I need it," he supposed to put the cell phone down, unloop his belt and go rythm nation on yo a**? Please. Get yo act together nympho. (source, source)




-LR

Beyonce, CEO, 680

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Beyonce nasty
Have you seen her new video? She is grabbin on Jay-Z's crotch-junk, dancing zulu-style in the dirt and dancing like a freak. I am not happy with this video and think she needs to redo it. Apparently, there's a petition to have Columbia music redo the video. I agree. Beyonce nasty.

680 visitors today alone
Why are there so many people up in my junk as of late? Dang! I feel so loved. Keep it coming or I will cry alone in my bedroom holding a doll baby and staring at my autographed picture of Usher crosseyed.

I am a CEO
I started a new company called "Whamoo" with my friend Tiki the other day and we are so very excited about this new venture. Whamoo is a new flavored milk drank we come up with that take the flavor of candy and the healthiness of milk and mix them together. We basically dump Kool-aid powder into gallons of milk, then put it in a new container. She designed the label. It's got two babies holding the name on their shoulders. The babies are actually Tiki's babies. We took their photos and then got this boy to make the label. She had the vision of the design and I paid for the printing. It's cute.

Whamoo is new and we are going to try to sell it at local bodegas and gift shops. The good thing is that it doesn't need refrigeration. We got this chemical from a friend that keeps it cold without refrigeration. I am excited. Be on the lookout for Whamoo at a store near you.

Cat ate a purse
I was walkin to a birthday party last night and saw this skinny a** cat gnawing on a old brown purse. I wondered why it was doing this, so I went to remove the purse from the cat's mouth. It jump up and onto my face, gripping the sides of my head with all four paws with it's claws digging deep into my face. I screamed and slammed the cat with my birthday present (a wrapped box of pop tarts) repeatedly, but it would not get off me. So I walked up to a wall and slam my face against it a few times. The cat released it's grip and slid off my face like pudding and fell into a box. I look inside the purse and there was a small baby inside. It was alive but the cat had eaten the baby's right hand completely off. nasty. I took the baby to a hospital where my friend Trina work at. She took the baby in and ask me if I knew where the cat was that ate the baby's hand off. I said yes and she said I needed to go get the cat and bring it into the hospital.

I walked back to the scene of the cat crime, and there was the cat, licking it's wounds and stumbling around , dizzy. I knew what I had to do. I grab it, grab the knife from my pocket, gut it, grab out the baby hand and brought it back to the hospital. The cat was still alive after the gutting and walked away, more dizzy.

The hand got sewn back onto the baby and I got a $500 prize for bravery and heroship. I went to the "Big and Beautiful" clothing store and bought a tennis outfit and some barretts.

Okaaay!?

Neal Boortz in my junk

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Neal Boortz my boo
Oh my sweet lord. 300 people done visited my blog today, and it ain't even barely time for me to wake up. At what time do you readin ho's get up anyway? Shoot this ho do not arise until her body tell her to, or the alcohol wear off. Either way, 10:30am is my wake up time.

So back to the 300 people. Much love be goin out to Neal Boortz' Nealz Nuze for linkin to my old post about fair tax. Thank you for da love and now that I got you hos here, subscribe to my podcast.

I am hungry and my friend at McDonalds will hold me a Morning McRib in her purse for so long before she got to throw it away.

You ain't never had a Morning McRib?

It's a egg mcmuffin with bacon, ham and sausage, PLUS a McRib patty. The whole thing gets dunked in pancake syrup, then placed inside a Breakfast platter with pancakes and a hashbrown. I always buy an additional 2-4-1 hashbrown deal. They cheap, so eat them.

New shows: hold yo dang horses, ho
People be emailin me asking for more shows. I ain't done nothing in the past weeks or so but lay around, eat and watch maury reruns. I love Maury. He always make the guests think he on their side, but really he just trying to get them to be all weird for the audience. Shady. Plain shady. Anyways, I haven't taped any new shows because the thangs take so much out of me. That is a lie. I just be lazy. I will get to it. My bad, boos. (And that is boos as in multiple of boo. Not boos as in an audience booin people on da stage, or a slang word for alcohol. Booze is spelled booze, not boos, anyways, dumb ho.)

Ok I have got to go get my breakfast, then get tot he gym. I am now doing yoga. I love it. So sweaty and stanky but I can feel the inches melting away like stick of butter down my throat.

Okaaaaaaay!!?!

-LR

Paris Hilton: fart in mitten

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Has yo a** seen this interview with Paris Hilton where the interviewer confronts her with comments left by people on their website? One of the comments says she is a "fart in a mitten." The interviewer says it to her face. And she doesn't even wince. A fart in a mitten? That sounds like a Xmas song.

My face was frost bitten
when you opened the door
like a fart in a mitten
I am your Christmas whore

I thought there was nothing more terrifying than watching Eddie Murphy in "The Haunted Mansion," but now he gone and done something even more blood curdling: he marrying a Spice Girl!

"Eddie Murphy and former Spice Girl Mel B are reportedly set to wed in September. The couple - who met at a party in Beverly Hills last month - have reportedly booked the plush Roosevelt Hotel, in Los Angeles, for their "dream wedding". Mel, 31, and Murphy - who is 14 years her senior - are reportedly planning to tie the knot in an intimate ceremony attended by just close family and friends."

I think that transvestite he got caught with awhile back as actually Scarry Spice before she got famous. He probably got her the record deal.

I found a new book for my life. It's called How not to Look Fat. I ordered one for me and one for my little neice. She is 9 years old and weighs three hundred pounds. I like what they have to say about hiding back fat. I got a corset...but it don't fit me no more.

-LR

Killa Cam question

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Killa Cam, a fan, wrote me a question he wants me to answer on the podcast. I want to share it with you and encourage yo a** to send in questions I can answer during the show. Make them personal, related to either love, life or pop cultures like Oprah Lez-frey, Mariah Scarey, Skinny Janet or anybody else you got up in yo brain. And now, here's the question:

"If you know that a girl has a boyfriend, and you still have sex with her, are you doing anything wrong or is the girl the one that would be wrong?"

I have an answer for this boy and will record it for the next show. Send in yo questions soon because I may get my recording on asap.

-LR

Oprah speaks

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Oprah: "There isn't a definition in our culture for this kind of bond between women."

Lady Raptatstic: You mean the kind of bond where a tongue go in yo stuff, swirl all around like you inside a ice cream cone, and the tongue ain't da tongue of no man? Yes, there is a definition for that kind of bond. And it is not friendship or co-worker.

Oprah: "...So I get why people have to label it .."

Lady Raptatstic: When people start worryin about labels is when they gay. And where is Tom Cruise's baby? And why is Eddie Murphy suddenly marrying Scarry Spice? And why is Mariah touring in a bus? The world is a crazy place these days.

Oprah: "...How can you be this close without it being sexual?"

Lady Raptatstic: You tell us, Oprah. You tell us.

An open letter from Ms Raptastic:
I have been to the gay side once. This friend of mine got me drunk and when I woke up I was being touched by her daughter, a 23 year old high scool drop out with tatoos, piercings and a t-shirt that said "Your Mom Goes to Clown College." I was very tired so I let her get all over me and every which way. The point at which I had to leave was when I turned over on the bed. I felt all her saliva she left on me as it made contact with the sheets. I had to get up, wipe myself off with the dish rag by the bed, and get out of there.

Me and the daughter get ice cream cones every now and then. There is not a definition for the bond we have.

I am a lesbian and me and Oprah did it in a Wendy's parking lot to days ago with Gayle filming. Watch for the tape on youtube.

-LR

Is this racist?

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I say it is a bit on the racist side. The white woman is holding the black woman's face as if she owns her. And the background is black so you can barely see the black woman. The white woman is sexy and the black woman look just plain and frumpy.

I will not be buying an Playstation this year. Playstation is racist, please.

Is Oprah a lesbian?

-LR

Broken dreams and vases

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I had a wonderful morning today. First, I had a handful of donuts from the bodega near my house. I have what I consider to be very large hands, so a handful of donuts is exactly a baker's dozen. As I walked and ate my free (yes they was pilfered) breakfast, I sang Amazing Grace to myself as a pidgeon flew just above my head in front of me. He seemed to be leading me, so I followed. It flew in circles above the street, so I walked into the street and got hit by a girl on a bike. She yelled at me, threw rock at my head and caused me to lose the vice-grip on my donuts, just because when she hit me, she fell off her bike and broke a glass vase from Pottery Barn she were carryin in her cheap backpack. I said to her, "How can you be cryin about a vase from some place called da Pottery Barn? A barn for pottery? That sound nasty and cheap. Why don't you go to the bodega? They got vases in there real pretty for two ninety-nine!" Then I beat her senseless, picked up half a donut that did not fall into the puddle of dog wet, and was on my way.

I got back onto the sidewalk, looking for the pidgeon. But he had gone by now. I tried singing Amazing Grace to myself again, but my singing was drowned out by the girl's cryin, the cop cars squealin up and the man from the bodega yellin somethin in his cell phone in some language that sound like a cartoon. I stopped singing and turned around to see what all the commotion was about. The cops was walking towards me, the bodega man was pointin at me and the girl with the broken vase was yelling "Revenge! Revenge!" at the top of her crazed-out lungses. I knew what I had to do.

I elbowed the first-story window of a lovely townhome to my left, jumped inside, lit the couch on fire and threw it out the window (this is called bait and swish. I seen it on magyver back in the day when my friend used to babysit me at this church). I ran to the back of the house and found a phone. I called 911 and told them my baby had choked on my husband's key ring (just for fun) then ran out the back of the house all the way to my own house, singing Amazing Grace and wishing I had kept a hold on at least one of them donuts.

Did you like show 49?

-LR

Show 49: Toilet Holes

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Ladies and gentlemens...after more than a month of silence, like a rainbow shooting forth after a awful storm, may I present Show 49: Toilet Holes.

Show topics include: pretzel logs, invisible suit, fat suit, hot rain, dead farmer aunt, warm finger, Asian massage, rape armies, toilet holes, the wall incident, Hawaii, Denzel, blind orgy, medical marijuana, the hands of a blindman, novacaine on a dishrag rape, our butts smell alike

-LR

A garden grows

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I had a wonderful night tonight, despite the rain and my bleeding knee. I fell on a piece of cactus at a botanical flower show this afternoon I was attending with my friend Domino and his parapalegic brother, Tony. I was walking through the desert zone minding my business, when Tony came zooming through on his moped. He can't walk, and thinks wheelchairs are for sissies, so this doctor from Hong Kong built him a special parapalegic moped that can do 60...all Tony has to do is blow in a tube and type on a keyboard.

I was bent over smelling a desert rose, thinking in my mind back to when I was ten and was raising flowers in my Grandma's backyard. I'd walk out every morning to water tham thangs, talk to them thangs and sing them thangs songs. I remember one time this neighboor overheard me sanging and asked if I wanted to lemonade. I walk over to his house and he brought out atray of lemonade...naked. I drank the lemonade (it were free) and started to run out of his backyard. He called out to me but I kept running. A second later I was swooped up into a net and hanging limp fifty feet in the air. My neighboor walked underneath me and said he warned me about running. I asked him to let me go, but he just sipped his lemonade and sang an opera aria in Spanish.

Even though I was ten, I was packin. So I pulled my glock out from my underoo panties and shot him square in the top of the head. He fell to the ground on top of his glass of lemonade. The glass shards punctured him.

I took aim at the knot holding the net up in the air, fired and missed. I fired again and missed. I checked the barrel: one bullet left. Just then I heard my Momma callin me from next door. I couldn't let her know what predicament I had gotten myself into, so I stayed silent. She stopped calling for me and went inside. I waited...I waited for three whole days. Well, I was scared I'd get in trouble for goin into the neighboor's yard! Do not judge.

One night my mom burst out the backdoor screamin my name. She were drunk and holding a can of lighter fluid. She was hysterical. "Where's my baby!? Where is she!?" A man came out the back door behind her. Who was he? I'd never seen him before.

"Shut yo face and get back inside. It's snowing, girl."

Yes, it was snowing. I was hanging in a tree in a net while snow fell on me, freezing m y body solid cold. Soon, I froze to the point where I could not move my body and ice began to form on me. This was the best thing that could have happened, because the ice added ectra weight to the net, which caused it to creak under pressure. I didn't move and let the ice collect and collect. Finally, I was completely inside a block of ice shaped like my huddled body. I could hear the net slowly creaking and bending under the weight. Just then the net snapped, releasing me from my high tomb. I hit the ground and the ice broke off me like a frozen afterbirth. I actually did not hit the ground. I hit my dead neighboor. He was completely frozen, and his face was in a permanent state of shock: eyes al bulged and mouth all oven and frozen with white icicles.

My arms were frozen solid but my legs could move. So I dragged myself across the lawn by using my legs to pull me forward, very slowly. Six hours later, I got the backdoor of my house. I screamed for my Momma. She came running out, didn't see me, and stepped right on my stomach, crushing my ribs and my pancreas. My skin was so frozen-brittle by that time, her foot actualy went through my skin and into my rib cage. Her foot got stuck there like if you step on a pumpkin and walk around trying ot get the pumpin off. She walked around with me wrapped around her foot, trying to pry her foot out from my guts. No luck.

She callled her man friend who callled 911. We were transported in the emergency vehicle as one entity: her foot in me and my body frozen in pain.

Three hours later, we were sperated, like siamese babies. The surgery was a success except one of her toes grafted onto my rib and had to be cut off. The toe had to stay on my rib when they closed me up for safety reasons.

So I got my Momma's toe in my rib cage, when I see a net these days, I cry and I never go into neighboor's back yards again, except if I have to water their flowers. I like watering flowers.

So when Tony came speeding towards me, I was in my brain all thinking and crying. That boy slammed into me and I went tumbling into a cactus and fell knee first onto a gravel pit, scraping up my knees like a Navajo scalp a Pilgrim. Nasty. I got up, ripped his keyboard from his blow tube and kicked him in the parapalegic jaw. I said, "Boy, I will slam you down so hard your brain will turn back to normal!" And with that, I picked him up out his moped and body slammed him on the rocky terrain.

Tony laid there for five minutes. I tried to make a getaway, but i heard someone speaking. It was Tony! He stood straight up and looked at me. My body slam had cured his parapalegicity! He walked to me and gave me a hug. We french kissed and I felt his butt. It felt very mushy, probably from him sitting in that moped all these years not walking. I told him he needed to go to the gym to get his butt back, and he agreed.

Love,

LR

Taco Bell?

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Oprah gay?
My neighbor made me a pineapple upside down cake one time for my birthday. She said "I made it because I know you like sweet things." Then she smile a little and gave me that look like "I am gay." I closed the door, dropped the cake onto a paper plate and let my other friend's dog eat it. I was dog sitting.

Which brang me to the news I seen on the magazine and tv about Oprah releasing a statement about her not bein gay with her close ladyfriend who she work on top of, Gayle King. A magazine headline said her almost-husband Stedman is writing a book, and in that book it say Oprah gay. My thang is this: powerful women got the gut of a man, so they got the sexual desire of a man...a desire for da coot.

Oprah gay and here how I know:
1. Her favorite book, the one that she read it she gave copies to all her friends, The Color Purple, was about a lesbian.
2. Oprah never married.
3. The name Gayle has the word gay in it.

But here is where I say something on my box. I do not care if you is gay, straight, rich, poor, black, white...as long as you decent people, march on. As long as you honest people, march on. As long as you not stupid people, march on.


A nasty letter
I got a message on this myspace message thang from a boy named Lucky sayin I am not funny. At first I was going to go find his address on the internet and hunt him down and slash him with whatever sharp object i could find when i got there. But I got hold of my senses, ate a bag of marshmallows and chose to write an open letter to Lucky on my blog. There are only nine people who read this dang thing, but maybe one of them will be Lucky and maybe one of them who is Lucky will see how stupid you is, Lucky:

Lucky-

I got yo letter and I have to say it put me in my place. You sayin I am not funny and sayin my language is stupid made my face vibrate, my hand ball up into fists of indetrimintamable rage, and my wall under my window get kicked with my shoeless left foot. And yes, it hurt.

I work hard to bring you quality entertainment, you fleabag rat tooth bucket face yarn hair over-sized shoe doritoo neck gobstoppin butter nut dog dropping! I swear to you on my life if you was here I'd wing you so hard in the air, you'd elevate away from my hands. Yes, I could levetate you I would swing you so hard. So you need to watch out for me. If I ever see you in my face, Lucky, I will wrap a plastic hose around your throat and use you as a stairmaster, walkin all up and down your filthy body.

I am funny, my show is funny and i have just kicked yo face off yo head in front of all nine of my readers.

Janet is no longer fat
Yes, Lady Raptastic is now sucking big crowe for making fun of Janet. I forgot once you get big that you can lose weight. I have been nig so long I think once you big, you big forever. My bad. So props to Janet and for those of you who chastized me on my old blog for beating her down verbally, I apologize. The ho look good, don't she?

Shoe Fest
I got a part time job at Shoe Fest. People often write to me asking me how I earn a living sitting at home doing nothing, recording a podcast every three months. Well, I have a private donor if you must know. He is a family friend who has kept me in the fineries of life so I don't have to work.

But he died.

So now I am back to work, this time at Shoe Fest, this place eight blocks from my house. I walk there. it's a nice walk, by a park, a few pretty houses, and a bodega with the pastry section hidden from view of the clerk. And the clerk is this old Asian woman with bad eyesite. So now on my way to and from work, I snatch a cake or doughnut.

Chris
I called Chris again today and still got the answering machine. Whatever. He gone, so be it. I will move on. I do have a surprise for you, loyal blog reader. All nine of you. I have a new podcast coming in a few days. We recorded it awhile ago and it just never got put on to the internet. So, keep salivating, keep wishing and hoping it will come soone rthan you think, like Christmas, and pretty soon you will have episode 49 of the Lady Raptastic show.

Peace on earth and goodwill men.

-LR

brangin sexy back

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Listen at me hos. The lady is here and alive. I got my foot caught in a rabbit trap in the park awhile back and had to go live with my Auntie while it healed. She and me had somelong talks up into the wee hours of the midnights...just talking about life and failure and drama and men and Criffer and Gentleman Snatchtastick and all. She told me some insights into my lifes I have never thought of before.

One of them was about love. She said love come and go, but sex come first. And she also say sex come before friends. Always. I ain't never heard that before, but you what? She right. She right. As I sat there holding a bag of, what else, dunkable oreos (love that new shape! And you heard about it first on my podcast, ho!) listening to my Auntie, I realized something. Those dunkable oreos is da bomb, my feet seem to be getting wider and my Auntie is very wise. Which brings me to my point.

Old people is wise.

Not young people. They procrastinate and do stupid stuff like drank and smoke french cigars, wet they pants and give each other diarheas. But not old people. Old people sit around on stoops and talk to each other, read, talk some more, then go to sleep at 2pm in the afternoon. That is wise.

It is not wise to stay up in da club all night inhaling toxic fumes and spendin all yo hard earned money on dranks for men who never give you they number or ask you to dance with they selves. It is also not wise to shave you lady pits, as this will cause stubble and ingrown hairs. That is why I keep mine bushy like a hairnet wadded up in yo hand. You ever held a hairnet wadded up in yo hand? It look like the hair under my arm.

What?

In any case, I am on again off again podcasting these days. Mostly off again, as Chris is not speaking to me right now. He called me out for tellin his friend I wanted the both of theys to invade me one night when we wuz drunk. I mean, invade me spiritually, but they both took it another way and got upset and leaved my apartment. I put my clothes back on and threw a shoe at them as they got on the bus. That was the last time I seen chris. I call him a lot and leave messges, but he don't answer. Maybe he will call back and maybe he will die. I do not know. Only God Jesus know that. Am I right?

Ok, look. I don't promise nothin as far as podcastin go. I am in a sultry angry mood these last months and I might do a show and then again I might eat a magic mushroom and go to crazy town every night of my life until my body turn purple from death and I throw myself off a cliff in Wyoming listenin to the Judds on my tape Walkman singing "Love Can Build a Bridge." I love the Judds, especially the old Momma one. I wish sometimes she was my Momma. We could go to kareoke bars and knock them dead on they faces.

Lady Raptastic is yo girl, ho!!!!