A judgment-full zone.

Month: September 2014

Sonnets About Sexting

Welcome to the first installment of Poetry for Millennials, in which the trials and tribulations of the Wi-Fi generation are written in the style of our favorite poets, playwrights, and childhood authors.

Let us begin with William Shakespeare, because, I mean, he invented the human. I present to you, O readers of Fartbook.org:

Sonnets About Sexting

Medieval girl texting

Anti-Ode To Mine Imagery Unclothéd

Oh god agh shit ass balls my lord aww fuck
I fear that I have made a grave mistake.
One never should attempt to test their luck
When high ground with one’s exes is at stake.
O how could I have thought it keen or wise
To pull up every contact in my phone?
And scrolling through the roster of hot guys
Think texting them would make me less alone?
If only the reception had been weak,
The mirror pics of my hind-quarters safe
Up in the Cloud, for some hacker to seek
Not sent direct to motherfucking Rafe.
First, god I curse. Next up: AT&T.
What carrier? You never carried me!


 The Textual Drunkard

Ohhh not again, agh shit, I’m such a mess
Bright morn reveals the blemish ’pon my soul.
(No, not the Straw-Ber-Rita® on my dress—
Though that will be a mark the fabric holds.)
O stain more foul than any liquor’s dye
That leaves both heart and gut in turbulence!
Why play on boozy loop before mine eyes,
Reminding me my blunder’s permanence?
As babes, we learn forgiveness doth abound.
Like injured starfish, virtue can re-grow.
But soon such lessons are in vodka drowned,
And sins committed ne’er shall He revoke.
“Twas but a sext!” friends shout. “’Tis only Chad!”
Then silence, reading: Message sent… to Dad.

Stars Who Forgot To Shave

This lovely article over at E online got me thinking… where is the outrage over men’s facial hair??? Here is my response.

Hollywood’s Hirsute Horrors

Fuzz, stubble, 5 o’clock shadow, the devil’s whiskers, Forgetful Thomas’s Tell-Tale Ticklers—whatever you want to call it, we all know that facial hair is disgusting and completely unacceptable. Flashing any trace of the protein filaments that naturally grow out of a man’s follicles is an affront to everything we hold dear in this fragile world. A proper male starlet should be clean-shaven. It even says it in the bible!

I, Jesus, hereby decree that a man’s face must at all times be as smooth as a cherub’s rosy bum. Amen.

-Jonas Brothers 23:14

99% of the time, Hollywood’s hottest men keep their revolting facebeards in check (and an army of aestheticians employed yet woefully underpaid). But we’re all human, sort of, and every once in a blue moon,* a leading man makes it out of his leading man cave without using a wax, cream, or blade to remove every last hair from his chiseled, million-dollar jaw. From Palmdale to Pakistan, Moscow to Mordor, sometimes the stars we cherish and trust simply fuck it up in the face department. Below are a few of the worst offenders.

*Ed note: this post is graciously sponsored by the Blue Moon Brewing Co., moons that are blue, and the classic Rodgers and Hart love song, Blue Moon.


The culturally subversive and like totally nasty photos in this slideshow may cause migraines, uncontrollable vomming, and/or severe anal discomfort. Proceed at your own risk.


Everyone’s favorite Zac Efron was spotted at the Radosław, Poland premiere of <em>High School Musical 8: Back To The High School</em> looking like he rolled his trademark jaw in ash. 
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Get it together, Zackie— you’re not a Chinchilla taking a bath! We can barely see your beautiful black eyes underneath that abhorrent, pube-esque beard situation. Boy-next-door Adrien Brody clearly swapped his shaving kit for a tampon bag on the way to the Liaoning Film Festival in the People’s Republic of China.
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In a hurry, or just trying to distract us from that time he kissed Halle Berry at the Oscars and it totally wasn’t okay and we’ll never forget the violation as long as he is a working actor in Hollywood? Did Robert Pattinson spend a week at Burning Man before making it to the <em>Twilight: The Twilight Years</em> premiere in Diamond Bar, California? I could brush dried mud off my Louboutins with those bristles! 
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Next time try to keep your limited edition <em>Mumford and Sons Bespoke Straight Razor (Like Real Men Used To Use In The Past Times)™</em> as sharp as your fangs, Robbie. Hey, someone tell Ryan Reynolds (seen here at the <em>GQ Prostate Cancer Ball</em> in Buffalo Gap, South Dakota) that this isn’t eighteen fucking seventy five. Or 1975 for that matter. 
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What’s with the full bush, Ry Ry? Waxer on vacation? Razor get rusty? Too busy having marital sex with Blake Lively to clean up like a decent human? More like <em>Good Luck Upchuck.</em> 
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<p style="font-size:70%;">[<em>Ed note</em>: I know that was Dane Cook. Whatever.]</p> Can you say Maroon 5-o-clock-shadow? Looks like Adam Levine forgot a little something on the Video Music Award’s shag carpet—whoops! Red carpet. (Freudian typo!) The free-spirited star may have moves like Jagger, but he clearly doesn’t have a functional shaving implement.
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<p style="font-size:79%;line-height:1.4em;">[<em>Ed note</em>: Hey Adam, if you come by our offices for an interview, we have a 12-pack of disposable <em>Penn Jillette X-treme Magik Blades™</em>* with your name on it!]</p>

<p style="font-size:60%;margin-top:8px;"><em>*Item has been discontinued everywhere but the US due to x-treme bleeding.</em></p> Now this is just egregious. Noted hippie Daniel Craig looked even more granola than usj at the 2014 Teen Choice Awards in Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, Wales.
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He may be playing Union hero Major Robert Anderson in the upcoming civil war flick <em>Fort Sumter: Sumptin’ Else</em>, but we think he’s better suited for the role of Major Fashion Faux Pas! It appears James Franco decided to go au naturel at <em>Sports Illustrated’s Boobs Boobs Boobs Look! Boobs</em> Gala in Hyderabad, Pakistan last month. 
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Let’s hope he was too stoned to find his trusty Shick <em>Baker’s-Dozen-of-Blades™</em>. Or better yet, the Franc’s just prepping for his (rumored) role in acclaimed directing team Wes Anderson & Michael Bay’s upcoming adaptation of the 1967 romantic thriller <em>The Sasquatch of San Dimas</em>. <div style="font-size:84%;">Oops! It appears Dave Franco forgot to do some croosh personal grooming before hitting <em>Glamour</em>’s annual <em>Charity Fiesta for Victims of Identity Theft</em> at Cleveland fashion week. Looks more like a <em>Charity Fiesta for Victims of Having A Secondhand Merkin Glued To Your Face</em>. 
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I’m not even gonna talk about the way that moldy peach fuzz hides the luscious upper lip that made him a YouTube star in the first place. Don’t forget your roots, Dave. Or your Nair x Opening Ceremony <em>Quik n’ Creamy Reduced Burning Sensation Face-Erase Paste™.</em></div> Haley rarely gets it wrong on the red carpet, but his bristly mug at the Met Gala got a lot of people talking. This year’s theme was “Blue Man Group,” not “Financially Struggling Lumberjack.”
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Guess the fair-haired fella thought he could get away with skipping a shave. You’re not fooling anyone, Haley! Especially if you’re gonna flaunt your toned and taut face in a revealing white button-up. I see hairy people! Infamous party boy Bradley Cooper makes the ultimate party foul in Sin City, flashing a whole lotta shag at the grand opening of Donald Trump’s™ Children’s Hospital on The Las Vegas Strip (not to be confused with the Donald’s adjacent nightclub, <em>Childrenz HO-spital @ Da $trip</em>).
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Bradley, if you can’t explain why there’s a rotting feral raccoon on your sun-kissed mug, we’ll just have to blame it on a Hangover. <div style="line-height:1.0em;">Here’s Liam Hemsworth at the New Hampshire premiere of <em>Hunger Games: Gloria Steinem Edition</em>, looking like a total sack of fucking shit with no regard for personal hygiene or standards of decency.
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Look, I can accept an errant sideburn or (at most) 30 minutes of minor facial hair growth. If you had a waxing accident in Ibiza, you might get a pass. If a swarm of child gypsies stole your Venus <em>Electric Daisy Carnival Electric Razor Carnival™</em> mid-Jeroboam of Vin Santo in Rome’s famed Trastevere district, I could let it slide. But this? This is more than a gaffe, Liam. It’s an embarrassment to our country. I’m done.</div>
Here’s Liam Hemsworth at the New Hampshire premiere of Hunger Games: Gloria Steinem Edition, looking like a total sack of fucking shit with no regard for personal hygiene or standards of decency.
Look, I can accept an errant sideburn or (at most) 30 minutes of minor facial hair growth. If you had a waxing accident in Ibiza, you might get a pass. If a swarm of child gypsies stole your Venus Electric Daisy Carnival Electric Razor Carnival™ mid-Jeroboam of Vin Santo in Rome’s famed Trastevere district, I could let it slide. But this? This is more than a gaffe, Liam. It’s an embarrassment to our country. I’m done.

Emma “J.R.R.” Tolkin, staff writer here at Fartbook.org, has quit after 83 years of blathering snark and leaked nudes of underage celebs. In lieu of flowers, Emma requests your tweets and reblogs during this difficult time.


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