George Clooney is traditionally considered a conventionally hot ass Hollywood dude, so immediate reaction to me hating upon him would be to think, “Oooh, Raven a hater, because George look so good.” But really that’s not the case. My problem with this dude stems from the fact he is a pioneer in superficial plastic surgeries for men, to pretend to be hot, and to look younger and smaller faced now than he did fifteen years ago. Without this dude, we wouldn’t have calf implants or eyebrow tucks or whatever the fuck they’ve done to this guy to tighten his face skin up like a drumhead every fourteen months. And then for him to kick it with the sly smile and the “I’m so good looking, but care about things,” schtick, it doesn’t really bother me like other dudes on this list so much as make me feel bad for the dude. He must have the real deal self-esteem of a porn slut.
But he is propped up as a star now, one who cares about Darfur and AIDS, and makes movies every once in a while that are box office successes but usually the same movie he made like two years ago just with some new bitch starring with him. So I’ll be honest, I don’t hate George Clooney and want to smash him with a forty bottle so much as hate the whole fucking thing we have. But I’m not the following type, so I can’t just sign up for Al Qaeda (though I do have the beard) and learn the trickeries and smash planes into giant buildings. Those old crazy Islam wives who were trying to kill the cartoonist in Europe, they couldn’t even do that. So what’s the point of hating this whole system and trying to destroy it with terrorist acts, when two completely blending in ass white women from America couldn’t even kill a stupid political cartoonist not in America? Plus, if I force my beliefs on others, that makes me just like what I hate. So I ain’t gonna do it. I’m gonna believe my beliefs and leave it to myself. But if I get rich and can get away with bullshit like a Roethlisberger, I’d smash Clooney in the nipped and tucked and stitched and sucked eyeballs with a forty bottle, just to keep it real to my true self, and also because what would they do if I was rich by that point? It’d be an Us Weekly story and I’d go to some sort of rehab facility where I watched baseball games on the TV while taking prescribed sedatives, and masturbate myself to sleep every night for about two weeks. I only hope that at that point, my moral compass is still relatively pointed true north soul, and I’m still gonna use an empty forty bottle and not be justifying the use of a $400 bottle of cabernet sauvignon or some bullshit like that.
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