"They told me that if I didn't give up my crown to Miss Barstow, my personal integrity could be questioned."
California's annual state beauty pageant crowned the wrong woman. Per a CNN article, five celebrity judges miscounted the votes, giving the lowest point to the true winner (Miss Barstow) and the highest point to the fourth runner-up (Miss Sounds-Better-In-A- Headline).
See, this is what happens when there is a writer's strike. Unemployed celebrities, desperate for media attention, agree to be beauty pageant judges, forgetting they have to DO things, like add and subtract. With math skills like that, they could get jobs as movie studio accountants, who cooked the books to show that "Forrest Gump" was a financial loss, so the writers weren't due any royalties.
For those who don't know California geography, Barstow is a eyesore desert town, half way between Las Vegas and Hell. (wait, Las Vegas is Hell) ... Anyway, you never heard the Beach Boys sing about the girls from Barstow, did you?
Well Barstow has the hermits with the rusted cars on their lawn
And the girls so bored, they turn to crystal meth,
And pop out kids like demon spawn ...
The chicks work at the outlet mall, it's the only job in town
Or the ARCO station, selling gas and twinkies for the desperate, Vegas-bound.
I wish they all could be Barstowfornia girls ...
Well you go, Miss Barstow. Go prove that Barstow has something to export besides despair...
Dec 4, 2007
Justice for Miss Barstow
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2 comments:
Nice to have you back, Susan. Don't you ever effing leave like that again.
So good to see you back, my withdrawal shakes are almost gone.
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