Lady GaGa is a daddy-forgot-to-pull-out-during-a-drunken-bender mistake.  Or to be more exact, she was one kick down the stairs short of saving us all from having to listen to her broken-record music.  I’d like to take this moment to write a quick word to the father of Lady GaGa.

Dear idiot father,
You’re a piece of shit.  Thanks for ruining the airwaves by not kicking the piss out of your hideous, pregnant wife at least 3 times each hour.  Please eat the nearest moving bus to compensate for the agony you have put my ears through.

Sincerely,

Servo.

From this moment forward, in this blog, due to the absolute annoyance it is to say, write and read her name, Lady GaGa will now be renamed to Omar.  Don’t email or comment asking who the hell Omar is.  If you didn’t read this paragraph and piece together the oh so vital information, then you should probably join Omar’s father in the bus buffet.

Omar has the looks of a 12 year old boy born with fetal alcohol syndrome caked over with a bucket of chalk.  Omar’s attire is carefully chosen by a combination of sugar-high disabled children and the Olympic gymnastics team.  Topped off by something random out of Prince’s closet.  This look for Omar can only be described as a fucking mess.  Pants and a wigs that fit are never an option.

In addition to Omar’s physical flaws, there’s also the singer/songwriter flaws.  Such as Omar’s constant obsession with repeating himself over and over again.  I understood the fact that I had to just dance once, but I didn’t think there was someone dumb enough, who actually finished the song, to need to be reinstructed 460 times during a 3 minute session.  The s-s-s-s-stuttering doesn’t appeal to the ear either.  Puh puh puh puh poke her face with a fucking brick.

As for you who enjoy Omar’s music, how are you still managing to breathe?  It amazes me that people like you haven’t died from a severe overdose of being the dumbest fucks on earth.  Is it just me or do my tax dollars pay for most of the assistance you receive each morning putting your clothes on, bathing, eating, wiping your ass and taking you for a walk so you can loudly hum incoherent messages and the squirrel in the tree?  Do us a favor and lick the electrical socket.