I don’t know what the hell a justin bieber is, but apparently Playboy wants to show us the vulva leading to the vaginal canal from whence it was spawned. If they could somehow manage to also get Ellen Page in the same issue, I could pretty much disregard pop-culture for the rest of my existence because nothing could ever come close to being that awesome. Also, the universe might implode and Oedipus will rise from the dead to slap some bitches. And my cat might be convinced that peeing on the couch is not cool.

Related posts:

1. The Unbearable Death of Postmodernism
2. Also, the death of the flawed, natural human spirit.
3. Ten Reasons I am Awesome
4. attack of the list
5. But I wonder how the betting pool on a McCain heart-attack during the first year in office looks in D.C.?