ERIC BISCHOFF: When Ted Turner sold WCW to Vince McMahon, I thought I was done seeing Eric Bischoff on TV. I had removed him from the brick list since he was out of the public eye & no longer around to annoy the piss out of me. But Vince, who is drunk on power, tends to make anyone who went against him bow before him. So he hired Eric Bischoff to be the "General Manager" of RAW, an on-air position with no real power. But, watching wrestling last night with the boys, we're treated to sweeping photographic close-ups of Bischoff, as if they are saying. "Love Eric" as they swoop by. Every time I see this Eddie Munster clone, I feel the need to get a grenade, stuff it in his smiling mouth, pull the pin & run like fuck.

THE FAT BASS PLAYING JAGG-OFF FROM NEW FOUND GLORY: I'd prefer not to know his name so as not to use up valuable brain space on this tubby prick. New Found Glory is 1 of those modern punk bands who play the Warped Tour & don't rage against or for anything. They suck enough to fly beneath my radar. But seeing 20 seconds of 1 of their videos is enough to put their chunky green-haired bassist on the brick list. He's fat, plays shirtless & tends to make faces like a retard trying to pass a shelving unit through his colon. I told Raz that I was adding this short bus passenger to the list & he went off on a rant about this pasty tubby virgin being unable to make a normal face in a photo for the past fucking year. This rant singed my goddamned eyebrows. If this lard-ass, who I hope never breeds, thinks mimicking Sid Vicious's facial expressions is cool, why not go the whole way & shoot some smack & then DIE !!!!!! Oh you are so very dead, tubby. I'm gonna put you in a hole in my basement & make you put lotion in the basket. Then you do the truffle shuffle, you fat fuck.

THE ENTIRE CAST OF GREASE: I would happily murder everyone involved with the production of this film. The actors, the caterers, the fucking best boy. Everyone. But death increases sales volume & I'd just be helping their estates. So, instead, bricks for all. And even though I liked Travolta in Pulp Fiction, he thinks L. Ron Hubbard is god & needs a reality check.

CRAIG NICHOLLS OF THE VINES: Don’t get me wrong, I like The Vines quite a bit. Many may write them off as a simple Nirvana rip-off, but they also rip-off The Beatles & they do it quite well... on CD that is. Live, Nicholls comes off as a wino frontman, 1 eye half open, the other nearly closed. He screeches & wails, but without soul or intensity. It just sounds like a young boy with his nuts being squeezed. Toss in the fact that he is always high & only seems to put down his bowl when his guitar is in his hand instead. The boy’s face contorts so badly during his rocker moments you don’t know if he’s in pain or trying to push a cumbersome object out of his bowels. For that, his death by brick will be a mercy killing.

DAVID ARQUETTE: There’s Rosanna & there’s Patricia, but the Arquette who seems to wrangle the most screen time is this mongoloid crack-head. Why? Could it be the cinematic merit of See Spot Run or Ready To Rumble. The motherfucker even brings down the value of good films like Beautiful Girls. Just let me have a flaming barbed wire match against this former WCW champion & my murderous rages will fade.

USHER:

JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT:

TIPPER GORE: The scourge of American music fans everywhere. She founded the P.M.R.C & made it hard to get cool records with the word “fuck” somewhere on them. Who asked you to be watchdog of the world? Not I. Maybe she hasn’t been fucked well. Or she just needs the brick treatment. To paraphrase 1 of her targets, Snoop Dogg, “It’s a 187 with my brick in yo ass.”

SHANIA TWAIN: This bitch sings lyrics that are too stupid even for our retarded cowboy president, George Dubya Bush. A Canadian Country singer with lyrics to love songs such as, “I’m gonna getcha, don’cha worry bout that”. She goes from singing to speaking & back again with back up singers that sound blatantly vaginal. Her songs sound like commercial jingles or TV theme songs. But her brick beating will have to be kept on the DL, because my girlfriend’s dad loves Shania & he is a heavily armed police officer. I may have to take out a contract so this bitch can get the bricks. Floppy headed cunt!

SEAN PUFFY COMBS: I’m surprised I didn’t put him on the list sooner. This guy made sampling famous after Biggie got shot, but that wasn’t enough to make the brick list. His clothing line wasn’t enough. His dumb ass performance in Made wasn’t enough. Here’s what got Shuffy on the list. He’s the reason Jennifer Lopez, that mediocre talent is so goddamned famous. If he didn’t nail her & make her huge, she’d far less annoy me. So for that, Diddy takes a brick in the mouth.

GLORIA GAYNOR: She sang “I Will Survive” & what ever happened to her? This broad had her anthem for women become a hit when I was a fetus & that crap still gets played daily. People still tap their toes to this. When will motherfuckers realize that disco is DEAD. At first she was afraid, she was petrified, then my brick went upside her jaw, thus rendering her silent. Now, go get your fucking shine box!

MICHAEL JACKSON: How does 1 artist, an artist who was once undoubtedly the mack, become so fucking weird? He’s been at a point for the last decade that he’s freakiness takes precedence over his work. That’s fucked up. But what got him on the list wasn’t his nonexistent nose, or his baby dangling, or his preoccupation with children. What got him on this brick list was a moment in Martin Bashir’s documentary about him where Michael told a story about Tatum O’Neil trying to have sex with him. As Tatum undid Michael’s shirt buttons, Michael just covered his eyes with both hands. He said, “she stopped & left the room because she realized I was too shy”. NO! She stopped & left the room because she was fucking sickened of your lack of manhood & didn’t want you to touch her pussy. If you had said, “stop” or pushed her away & explained it, you’d have been fine. But you made like an ostrich. If I don’t see it, it isn’t there. You sick, testosteroneless freak. Start working with Quincy Jones again & maybe your ass won’t be bankrupt. You’ll make good music & we can like you again.

AVRIL LAVIGNE: Not Punk! Stop it! But I digress. This Canadian mall child with no titties gets on the list after I heard her latest single; “I’m With You”. I wasn’t paying much attention but the chorus drills through my thought meats with her crying like the baby in Eraserhead. “I’m with yeoooooooooo-ahoooooooooo-ahoooooooooo”. I wanna put my fucking fist in her mouth... & leave it there. I wanna be Billy Zane in Demon Knight & rip her head off her body with my fist still in her mouth & walk around all day with an Avril bracelet. Just imagine how annoying she’ll be after she gets her period. Furthermore, the song states Avril is waiting in the dark for someone she doesn’t know to take her somewhere new. Where I come from that’s called kidnapping. Is that what the young ladies of the Western Hemisphere fantasize about? Abduction?

In her song “Complicated” she laments about a straight-laced boy she’s in a relationship with, yet he doesn’t want to be seen with her. Avril, when that happens, you are 3 o’clock slop. You are only called when the guy needs his balls moistened. You serve no other purpose. You don’t get taken to parties or other social events. You don’t get to meet the family. You get called late at night after all other pussy pounding options have been exhausted. Stop singing & take a load in your eye.

KELLY ROWLAND OF DESTINY’S CHILD: The other girl in Destiny’s Child made a very dumb statement. “I love Nirvana’s old record with the baby on the cover, in the water- that is my favorite record to this day.” Wouldn’t you know the title, much less every word to your favorite record? For that, this dumb cumdumpster earns a date with sweet lady brick.

ALI GL: Wigga please.

JOHN MAYER: This double X chromosome owner has music that sounds like you’re tiptoeing through menstrual blood. Why would any heterosexual man describe a woman’s body as a wonderland? A woman’s body is a hot sensual thing, not a fruity wonderland. So this woman will have to use a brick tampon then make me dinner or you’ll feel my hand.

R

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