Tea And Armageddon

Sorry for the lack of updates for the past couple days. Unfortunately, between being a student, a restaurant server, a porn star and a stipper, my time to do pretty much anything is slowly but surely dwindling. It also doesn't help that, thanks to water damage, we're missing a wall in our house.

Oh, and this morning my dog had her first period on my bed. Super.

So far, the new job is going rather well. I'm making pretty good money, the guys I work with are really nice, and the work is rather easy. What I'm less thrilled about is that, well, I'm now starting to get attention from people with a pretty singularly tracked mind. I mean, I'm flattered when guys tell me I'm hot and when they tell me I like my blog, but from there they tend to segue directly to "So you wanna have sex?" Needless to say, I now have a greater sympathy for Erik Rhodes. The fact that he hasn't gone all Tarantino is argument enough for canonization.

Don't get me wrong, I love sex. Really, I do. In fact, I'm contractually obligated to love it. But really, what the hell ever happened to dating? You know, going out to dinner, seeing a movie...hell, is it too much to ask for a freaking cup of coffee? As much as I absolutely adore getting fucked, I just want a little romance is all.

Sorry about that, just needed to let that air out. Honestly, for every single-minded a-hole I've met so far, I've met about a hundred incredibly sweet, funny and caring people.

Anyhoodle, this past week I've been busy applying to just about every single porn studio and their dog.* Thus far, my pleading little cries have been sent to Channel 1, Hot House and Lucas Entertainment. This is where you, my dear faithful readers, come in. Your job, should you choose to accept it (Pretty please?) is to get me a freaking job. It's called "Operation Get Jeremy Feist A Freaking Job".

No, I did not put much effort into that name, and it shows. I'm deeply ashamed of this.

Point is, I need some blog-o-buzz. People who drop my name will be rewarded with generous thanks, and this coupon for a free beej which you may print out and redeem whenever you see me.
(Thanks to Natalie Dee)

Alrighty, so you know the drill people, help me get a freaking job!

*Not literally of course. That would be bestiality.

How To Be A Dick On The Internet In 8 Easy Steps!

Hey you! You seem like a well-adjusted human being. How would you like to act like a total fucking asshole on the internet thanks to the power of anonymity? Well now you can! Just follow this simple guide and pretty soon you'll be projecting your own insecurities on people you've never met before for your own enjoyment.

#1: Find Your Dumping Ground

Much like real estate or hiding the body of that hooker you killed, the three most important parts of inter-douching are location, location, location. While anywhere is generally fine when it comes to dickin' it up, it usually helps to find a place where the clientele will go from 0 to Moral Outrage at the drop of a hat.

#2: Find A Target And Attack For No Discernible Reason

A valid argument? Bitch please. You're act of needless asshole-ishness must be as unfounded as possible. Think of yourself as The Joker: You're an agent of chaos, minus the weird-ass mouth scars.

#3: Take Any Criticism As A Personal Attack

How dare someone else have an opposing viewpoint! They must think they're better than you or something. As such, your goal is to demolish this person. Completely blow their comment out of proportion, take various pieces of it out of context, and most importantly...

#4: Target Their Mother

The classic standby. When it comes to maternity figures, nothing is off limits. Feel free to call their mom fat, stupid, hairy, ugly, smelly, slutty, skinny and foul. If their mother died, all the better.

#5: Everybody Else Is GAAAAAAAAAAY

What better way to draw attention away from your own doubts as to your orientation than by calling someone else a cock-swallowing fagosexual. The men who disagree with you are all limp-wristed ninnies and all the women are flannel-clad bull dykes. Speaking of women...

#6: Women Are Not Human Beings; Just Sex-Bots

Don't worry about the opinions of anyone with more than one X-chromosome. They're only bashing you because they simply cannot get enough of your manliness. Everyone knows that woman are attracted to assholes. Even the most well-thought out and articulate of arguments can be undermined with a cry of "OMG A GRL LETS CYBER".

#7: Blame Others For The Flame War

Did your random act of unnecessary dickishness incite a flame war? Well don't be too hard on yourself, obviously it was someone else' fault. Personal accountability isn't a concept that should even so much as cross your mind.

#8: Use The Hitler Card

At some point, every argument on the internet will eventually come down to a Hitler comparison. Always. It doesn't matter what the issue at hand is. Did you find the new Tyler Perry movie boring? You're just like Hitler! You think Proposition 8 will one day be seen as a national embarrassment to the civil rights movement? Seig Heil, Hitler! Do you agree that the anonymity of the internet has given people a carte blanche to bring out the very worst aspects of themselves? You must be Hitler.

So just follow these simple steps, and pretty soon you too will be out and about, furthering the misconception that everyone who uses the internet is a maladjusted sociopath. Cheers!

Kill, Fuck Or Marry: Classics Edition

I've been doing this for about 10 weeks now, and I'm running out of people for you guys to bang, murder, or to doom for the rest of their lives. Therefore, we're taking a trip back to a time where movies were in black and white, music was on vinyl, and you could have seven martinis for lunch without being labeled an alcoholic.

1. You're given a list of three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant or Peter Lawford?

Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn or Judy Garland?

Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra or Buddy Holly?

Lauren Bacall, Grace Kelly or Katharine Hepburn?

Jeff Stryker, Jack Wrangler or Ryan Idol?

Billie Holiday, Ava Gardner or Ella Fitzgerald?

Marlon Brando, Fred Astaire, or James Dean?

Leave your answers in the comments.

Candy Boy

So, I finally managed to score a gig as a stripper. Sweet! Yeah, I know, it fucking took me long enough, huh? Well whatever, I finally got around to it, and that's what's important. Anybody who says otherwise has a stupid face.

Anyways, today was pretty much the job interview. You know how in most job interviews you come in, shake hands, discuss your resume, shit like that? Well, not quite. Instead, the interview involves you going up onstage and shaking your junk like an Etch-A-Sketch. Needless to say, for someone who's never danced before and has all the grace and rhythm of Bambi, this is like signing up for the Army and having someone throw an active grenade at you.

So, here's how the shit went down: The Dj called my name, which is now "Peter" (There's a reason behind this, which I'm sure will become apparent in the near future). I hauled ass on stage, hoping for a good song, when what blares on the speaker?

Katy fucking Perry's "I Kissed A Girl".

Moving beyond the fact that this is a terrible fucking song, it just seems wildly...I dunno, out of place for a gay strip club really. I tried not to think about it too much, since (A) People don't come to a strip club to ponder gender politics, and (B) the irony would have made my head explode, which I'm told is kind of a deal breaker on your first day.

Afterwards, I took a break to check out the room where the dancers get prepped, got a few questions answered, and realized just how badly my french sucks. Thus far, I'm the sole anglophone in the place (as far as I can tell), and my current mastery of the french language sucks like a fucking hoover. On the plus side, the guys were very sweet about my complete lack of intelligence, and they were all seriously friendly, welcoming, and of course, pretty fucking hot.

Of course, time came to do a second dance, this time to "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls. Not to worry, I'm apparently allowed to bring in some CDs of my own choosing, so I'll be sure to bring long some Lily Allen. Anyways, I was rushing to get on the stage, only to find my brand new 75% off Converse Sneaker snag the edge of the stage on my way up. Needless to say, I busted ass head first on stage. It was kinda noticeable. Thankfully, if there's one thing I learned, it's that people are far more forgiving when you wiggle your tuchus in their face.

Either way, I guess the bossman saw something in me, because I'll be back onstage Saturday from 8:15 to closing. So if you're in the Montreal area and have a penis (sorry, Ladies Night is Monday and Tuesdays), make your way down. I'll be the white boy who looks like he's about to pass out.

Read A Motherfucking Book!

Wait a minute...What kind of fuckery is this? Encouraging literacy? Parental responsibility? Wise financial investments? That's not what rap is about! Rap is about exploiting your own previous circumstances while shamelessly bragging about materialistic possessions! Everyone knows that!
(H/T to Shadows of Dakaron for the video)

Gratuitous Nudity Time!

Okay, so thanks to Dewayne for the shout-out today. As it turns out, Squirtz has released the press package, which means I now have the freedom to post some pics from the scene onto the blog. Yay! As a general warning, the following is not safe for work, since it has lots of penis in it. Although the blog does have a content warning, so you pretty much knew what you were getting into here. Anyhoodle, if you're not opposed to naked, neurotic white boys, behold!





Anyways, hope you like them! The good news is that Jeremy Roddick is currently working on my next scene, and it should hopefully be up sometime next week. There will be more of the sexiness, dammit!

Today's Forecast: Cloudy With A Chance Of Gay

You know what I absolutely love the most about anti-gay groups like NOM? The idea that their lives are so absolutely meaningless that they think something like Gay Marriage will completely and totally wreck their shit. I'm sorry, but let's face it: If you legalize Gay Marriage, what the fuck's gonna happen? Not exactly a whole lot.

But fuck it, we tried telling them that before and it hasn't worked, so why not have a little fun with them. There is such a thing as The Velvet Mafia, and we are trying to make your children gay somehow and legalize public butt-fucking. In fact, here are the Top 10 Items on the Gay Agenda:

#10: Destroy the sanctity of two people who love each other entering a lifelong commitment by having two people who love each other entering a lifelong commitment.

#9: Infiltrate public schools and teach abstinence-only same-sex education (Because it's worked SO well with you guys).

#8: Get Thomas Beattie pregnant again so he can give birth to Octuplets.


#7: Finally get all those crappy Will & Grace reruns off the air. It's not so much offensive as it is just a terrible fucking show.

#6: Make August 17th National Matthew Rush day. No reason really. August is just kind of a boring month.

#5: Reanimate the corpse of Judy Garland.

#4: Kill the reanimated corpse of Judy Garland.

#3: Kill Paul Haggis, pry the Best Picture Oscar from his cold dead hands and give it to Brokeback Mountain. Seriously, how the fuck did Crash even win that one anyways?

#2: Get Wolf Hudson to LITERALLY teabag The White House.

#1: Legalize Gay Divorce.

I Squirted

For those of you who haven't heard about it yet, you can now see pictures and movies of me jacking off on Squirtz. I do various other things as well, including stripping, showing off my ass and killing a goat dressed as the imp of destruction to appease the god Dionysus (although I think that one might have ended up on the cutting room floor). Anyways, pics will be up once Bruce releases a press package, though for now, maybe a pic of my airbushed-to-fuck mug will do (sorry, but until I get a go ahead, y'all have to pay for it like everyone else). I have to admit, it's a pretty decent pic of me, although I think that's mostly because the guys pretty much photoshopped the sweet baby jeebus outta me until I stopped looking like a hideous troll. Score!

Anyways, for those willing to pony up, the video is available now, and you can see it here. For now, I'm just gonna go to bed and try to get over the fact that I have a ridonkulously tiny mouth. Honestly, it borders on Betty Boop-ish.

Kill, Fuck or Marry: Squirtz Edition

Well, only one more day people: Tomorrow, my very first scene ever will be on Squirtz. For those of you who like to watch neurotic white boys jack off, be sure to swing by and check out my scene tomorrow! For now though, here's another KFM.

1. You're given a list of three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Matthew Fox, Tom Welling or Jesse Metcalfe?

Christina Ricci, Anna Paquin or Laura Prepon?

Jeremy Roddick, Brad Star or Ben Andrews?*

Thandie Newton, Alison Lohman or Kate Hudson?

Robert Pattinson, Rupert Grint or Dev Patel?

Toni Collette, Demi Moore or Gillian Anderson?

David Cross, Patton Oswalt or Denis Leary?

Leave your answers in the comments.

*Anyone who kills Jeremy will be put to death with a flaming chainsaw. Just so you know.

Fuck Me Gently With A Chainsaw

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Happy Teabagging Day

I know there's been a lot of talk about the whole "Teabagging Day" bit, but leave it to a gay porn star to make one of the most hysterically funny videos I've seen thus far. Behold:

(Stolen Shamelessly from Wolf Hudson's Blog. Please don't sue.)

If You Seek Amy

www.nataliedee.com
Alright, so some good news for you all (although I guess "good" depends on your opinion of hot Man-on-skinny-neurotic-white-boy-with-latent-alcoholism sex): I'm going to be shooting my first hardcore scene tomorrow with someone else. Yay! There will be further details tomorrow, but for now, I'm keeping my mouth shut. I'll allow you to make your own jokes about that statement later.

For now, it's family TV night, which means I'm being forced to watch American Idol. Fucksocks. Quite frankly, I stopped watching this show after that self-righteous bitch won (you know who I'm talking about), and since then, I've been doing a good job of ignoring it. Now that I've watched it again, I remember why I left it. it's not that they're bad. Despite your tastes, you'd be hard-pressed to say that any of these people are not talented, it's just that, well, it's been done before. The contestants have become self-replicating. Aside from Jennifer Hudson (and to a certain extent, Kelly Clarkson), there just hasn't been an Idol contestant that has ever really wowed me. But whatever, I'm just being all rant-ey right now. Here's Kanye West (kind of) with "Gay Fish". Cheers!

We Are Now Totally Up Our Own Asses

As someone who wears skinny American Eagle Jeans, bought the Feist album before the iPod commercial, and writes a blog, I guess I'm sort of a hipster. But at the same time, I really do get annoyed with other hipsters sometimes. Case in point, Agent Bedhead's review of The Hannah Montana Movie. Granted, Miley Cyrus really does annoy me at times, but as the older brother of two youngin's who watch The Family Channel (which is like the shittier Canadian version of the Disney Channel), I have to admit: It's not a bad show.

Really.

The show's humour relies on dialogue instead of stupid pratfalls, the characters act, for the most part, age appropriate, and the writers tend to take as many shots as humanely possible at Billy Ray Cyrus, which is a sentiment I can totally get behind.

Which is why I secretly got a kick out of how totally apeshit people went over the fact that AB didn't tear it a new one. To which I say, if you want a bad review of Hannah Montana so badly, you can go watch it yourself and write a review. Does Miley Cyrus act like a self-entitles little brat in the real world? Of course she does. But you have to seperate the art from the artist. Hating something because other people like it is no different than liking something based on what other people like. It's like comparing Coke to Pepsi: It's the same thing, but with a different look.

So you know what? Chill the fuck out. The Hannah Montana Movie wasn't terrible. Deal with it.

The Monday Brain-Picking: What Gets You Off?

Alright, so since I'm currently up to my tenth Sunday Kill, Fuck or Marry, it occurred to me that I still have absolutely no idea what the fuck any of your types are. As such, I've decided to add a new day-based feature to the blog: The Monday Brain-Picking, where I get you to spill your squishy little guts for my own personal benefit. Sounds fun, doesn't it? Anyways, as a sort of Market Research for my new career, and for future KFMs, today's Brain-Picking:

When it comes to the sex and dating, what's your type, and what's your dream bonk?

I'll get things started off by saying that no, I don't really have a type, but I tend to weak-kneed and doe-eyed for the muscle guys. Not like "all veins are clearly visible through the skin" kind of muscley, but still, big muscles make me melt.

And my dream bonk? The Rock. Oh sure, he may be trying to do the whole "Dwayne Johnson" think now, but dude? Let's face it. You named yourself something that borders on pervertedly sexual, you're not living that down, EVER. Nor should you.

So let's see those squishy little guts people. What's your pleasure?

Kill, Fuck or Marry: Socks Are Fucking Annoying Edition

Once, again I'm prefacing the weekly KFM with a complete non-sequitur. Terribly sorry. But let's face it, socks are fucking useless. They smell bad, they're a pain to wash, and when you're shooting a scene, it's really awkward when you forget to take them off, and you're stuck being completely naked save for a pair of socks...God I hate them. Anyways, here are the rules and the names.

1. You're given a list of three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Keanu Reeves, Ben Affleck, or Adrien Brody?

Imogen Heap, Sia or Nicole Atkins?

Benjamin McKenzie, Paul Walker or Chase Crawford?

Anna Kournikova, Danica Patrick or Gabrielle Reece?

Reese Rideout, Derrick Vinyard or Jason Adonis?

Kathie Griffin, Margaret Cho or Janice Dickinson?

Brett Favre, Reggie Bush or Ben Roethlisburger?

Leave your answers in the comments!

It's A Series of Tubes!

Well, first off, thank you all for the support. I have to say, you all took that surprisingly well. As I said, the scene will be up on Squirtz.com on April 20th, so if you wanna watch a skinny, neurotic white boy jack off, be sure to check it out.

Also, as part of my new career, I've started new Myspace and Facebook profiles under Jeremy Feist, so feel free to add me. Hey, you can never have enough fake internet friends!

So, the Myspace* page...
Jeremy Feist on Myspace

And the Facebook Page...
Jeremy Feist on Facebook

Now, add me bitches!

Anyways, while I figure my new career, why don't you listen to some Fleet Foxes?...Just do it, jerkface. Cheers!

*Yes, I know Myspace is old as dirt, but apparently, I need it.

I'm A Porn Star. Surprise!

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Dude? YOU'RE NOT HELPING!

Are you freaking kidding me? Dude, calm the fuck down. I know the economy kinda totally sucks right now, but the world isn't going to end just because people relied too heavily on credit to pay for things they couldn't afford. You do not know what you're talking about, you're emotionally unstable, and quite frankly, you need to get the fuck off the air before your special brand of crazycakes causes even more damage than it already has.

The Fail Whale Smells And Has Fat Ankles

I hate you, Fail Whale. It's no secret that my obsession with Twitter has gotten to the point where I may or may not have pawned off my Dad's TV in order to pay for my internet connection. But of course, there's always one asshole who comes in and fucks shit up. That asshole is the Fail Whale.

Fuck you, Fail Whale! Whales are not supposed to fly, they are supposed to swim. KNOW YOUR PLACE, WILLY! And he's not even flying, he's making a bunch of fucking birds haul his fat ass around. You know what we call people like that? Mooches. And when someone's a mooch, we fart on their pillows and pee in their shampoo.

Not only is this tubby motherfucker a total ripoff artist, he also steals your profile pictures and your messages. He's like that super annoying roommate who eats all the Oreos and then doesn't bother replacing them.

I hope you choke on a chode, Fail Whale. Dick.

Oh, and because Metric's new album, Fantasies dropped today, here's their new video for "Gimme Sympathy". Cheers!

It's A Midlife Crisis, Charlie Brown!

www.nataliedee.com

Remember how I totally made fun of my mom for putting the final nail in her coffin of bring a super righteous bitch by making a facebook page for our dog? Well, my Dad managed to one up her in the "Oh sweet Jesus, please let me be adopted" department today: He tried adding me on facebook. From what I can tell, my Dad is going through a Midlife Crisis.

Again.

I wish I could say this has been the first time this has happened, but it isn't. To date, he's on his third midlife crisis so far. The first one occurred during the divorce, so basically, instead of getting a totally bitchin' sports car for me to joyride in, he got a divorce lawyer. And a supergay dragon tattoo. Apparently, he's devoid of the gene that lets him feel shame or embarrassment.

The second occurred last year, when Dad decided to pick up a pair of trophy girlfriends. At the same time. Super. And once again, NO SUPER BITCHIN' SPORTS CAR. Seriously, if you're going to inflict the psychological equivalent of waterboarding on your children, could you AT LEAST get something shiny, expensive and easily destructible?

And now, we've come to crisis #3. Not only has he joined Facebook, but he's also started tanning and whitening his teeth. I mean, yeah, I've started tanning to, but the difference is, I'm not old and decrepit.

On the plus side, when I finally end up going to see a shrink for the sheer amount of mental fuckery he's forced on me, at least I can stick him with the bill. Fucker owes me a solid.

Kill, Fuck, Or Marry: Cats Are Fucking Weird Edition

What does this post have to do with cats? Absolutely nothing. But cats are fucking weird, aren't they? I mean, they steal stuff, sometimes they puke on your floor for no apparent reason...what the fuck is your deal, cats? Anyways, here are the rules and such.

1. You're given a list of three people
2. You have to choose who to kill, who to fuck and who to marry.
3. Suicide is not an option.
4. You have to do it for both the men AND the women. It's purely hypothetical, so quit being such a pussy.
5. If you need help making up your mind, you can click on the name to see a pic.

Simon Pegg, Demetri Martin or Seth Green?

Uma Thurman, Angelina Jolie, or Milla Jovovich?

Shane Frost, Dean Coxx or Leo Giamani?

Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga or Annie?

Brandon Flowers, Caleb Followill or Pete Wentz?

Kristen Stewart, Elisha Cuthbert or Lacey Chabert?

Joel McHale, Jimmy Fallon or Conan O’Brien?

Leave your answers in the comments!

Mars Is Totally Gay Balls!

It's true, we've totally taken Mars. We've also colonized Pluto, but technically, you guys don't consider it a planet anymore. Douchebags.

What's Your Damage, Heather?

Alrighty, so I've been working on Scriptfrenzy for two days thus far, and so far, I've managed to squeeze out a good eight pages. I'm wonderfully proud of myself, since the only experience I've had writing scripts revolved entirely around a fluff media class in high school. The fact that I actually wrote something instead of completely falling flat on my face is a miracle.

What's less than fan-fucking-tastic is my car. I mean, it's obviously pretty fucked up ever since I let Jon drive it for a couple months until he got his own, but yesterday, it took a turn into "Fuck My Life" land. I don't know what happened, but I left my car parked in the street outside our house, and when I cam back, the driver's side door wouldn't open. Well, it would open a smidge, but for now, I'm stuck either going out the passenger door, or pulling a Dukes of Hazzard and sliding out the window. Somethings are better left on TV.

Anyways, this week I picked up The Yeah Yeah Yeahs' new album. I know a lot of people got all pissy because they used a synth, but for eff's sake, shut your goddamn face hole, it really isn't that bad. Heads Will Roll makes pretty good use of it, as does Skeletons. Hysteric is still the best song of them all, though. It's a beautiful song, and it would make a pretty good lullaby.

I also picked up The War Child covers album, which isn't that bad. There are some really good tracks (Franz Ferdinand and Yeah Yeah Yeahs), but I still find Duffy to be absolutely grating. Her voice is high-pitched and irritating, and her cover of Live and Let Die is boring as fuck. It's kind of funny that she's followed by Estelle, who is a WAY better (and more legitimate) soul singer than she is, although it's a bit redundant that she'll shout "LISTEN!" every five seconds while singing. As if I paid $15 so I can ignore you. I think she may have taken singing lessons from The Legend of Zelda's Navi.


That's all for now. To play you out, here's the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' acoustic version of Hysteric. Cheers!

Thank You, Abstinence-Only Education

No, really, we are ALL fucked. We are fucked very very hard.

(Thanks to Failblog for making me lose all faith in humanity)

SCRIPTFRENZY!!! It's Like A Frenzy, But With Scripts!

Sorry for the lack of a real post tonight, but thanks to Prisco, I've embarked on Scriptfrenzy '09. Basically, it involves me writing a 100-page script in 30 days. After spending a good 30 minutes trying to think of a good title, I think I may be getting somewhere...Kinda. I hope. Right? Right. Shut up!

Anyways, since I can't dangle something shiny in front of your faces to keep you distracted with this being the internet and all (stupid blagonets...), here's a pic of Jason Ridge being sexy to keep you company. Yay for Jason Ridge!



And for those of you who were not turned on by that (i.e. straight men, gay women, people who don't have a pulse), here's the new Yahtzee video. Cheers!