Way back in the 1980′s, Captain Lou participated in the music video for “Girls Just Wanna Have fun.”  It was arguably Lauper’s biggest hit.  It was also a clear example of trollopation.

0:41 – Lauper frolics about the kitchen when she needs to take a cue from her mother and start cooking.

00:54 – Captain Lou dispenses advice that is, no doubt, very useful.  You know this because he’s wagging his finger frantically.  Lauper shows the ultimate sign of disrespect by twisting her father’s arm around his back and forcing him against the wall.  The fact that Albano did not wallop that trollop is a testament to his near saintliness.

01:14 – She gets on the phone with her equally slutty friends.  They’re probably talking about how many cocks they’ve blown, a conversation that will take hours, if not days.

02:18 – Lauper and her girlfriends dance around a random room.  Looks like the beginning of an orgy.

02:40 – Dances in the streets, lifting up her skirt every time she passes a man.

02:43 – Only trollops go down dark stairwells without the accompanyment of a man.

02:54 – Interrupting a gentleman who is minding his own business and reading the afternoon edition of his local newspaper.

03:12 – While Captain Lou is having a civil conversation with his loving wife, Cyndi and her band of skanks throw an impromptu party, trashing the place in the process.  Once again, Captain Lou shows his saintlyness by only pointing at them and not beating them up and throwing them out of his house.

Cyndi better have a hell of a tribute planned for Captain Lou after causing him all of this heart ache.  Trollop.

]]> http://trollopwatch.com/2009/trollops-just-wanna-have-fun/feed/ 0 http://trollopwatch.com/2009/knotts-berry-bitch/ http://trollopwatch.com/2009/knotts-berry-bitch/#comments Tue, 06 Oct 2009 01:49:06 +0000 admin http://trollopwatch.com/?p=5 This weekend, I had the pleasure of patronizing the annual “Knotts Scary Farm,” the Orange County Mecca of Halloween Entertainment.  It’s the home of numerous haunted mazes, roller coasters that seem to go faster in the moonlit sky, and the stomping ground of a teenaged trollop who didn’t bring enough cash for a soda.

After a long evening of fun, I headed toward the exit, hand in hand with my girlfriend.  Through the throngs of people, I heard a faint cry for help.

About 15 feet to my left, a girl who looked between 14 and 16 years of age was standing next to a food stand with her hands waiving at any and every person walking past.

“Can you spare dollars?  I’m short on money for a soda,” she said, politely.

Unfortunately for her, I was out of hard cash and wasn’t about to buy her a $4 beverage with my debit card.  I looked at her, smiled, and said sorry, but no.

Her extended hand soon turned into a fist and her middle finger pointed up in retaliation.  The rage immediately built within me, and I retorted with the first thought that came to my head:

“Thanks for giving me the middle finger, you cunt.”

We kept walking and I was unable to see her reaction.  One could guess it was apathy, as that was probably not the first time she’s been referred to as such.

To my surprise, my girlfriend did not chastise me for using the C-word.  Partly because she was tired, but mostly, I think, because she agreed.

Upon arriving home I opened up a can of Coke Zero and dumped its contents into the sink as an act of defiance to this horrible human being.  Hopefully, she went home thirsty.  If it were up to me, she’d never again be able to enjoy a soda pop for the rest of her life, not even the generic brands.

Trollop.

For one French speaking neighbor, it was a chance to sling accusations of racism toward people in our building and Americans in general.  Because of this, my french neighbor is the latest “Trollop Watch” sighting for 2009.

At the meeting, one man was translating in Spanish for the non-English speaking residents.  He was describing the man that attempted the hooker rape.  He was black, so he used the Spanish word for it, “negro.”

Trollop interrupted and began screaming at the translator, saying he was using the N-Word and stereotyping the street toughs who have wreaked havoc in our fair community.

Several people of varying races defended the translator, but she continued.

“I speak french and I know a little Spanish, and I know what that word means,” she said condescendingly.

Her claim was that since a similar sounding word in French was derogatory, that the Spanish version of the word meant the same thing.

She threw a fit and had to be calmed down.  The meeting continued and she was visibly upset, unaware of her own ignorance as she slandered people she barely knew.

After the meeting, she started up again, speaking loudly to the manager within 6 feet of me.  I took it upon myself to put this trollop in her place.

“Hey, I took Spanish one in 9th grade, and the ‘negro’ means the color black.  It’s not derogatory,” I said.
“Well that’s terrific for you,” the trollop replied with her french drawl.
“I just wanted you to know that you’re wrong,” I said.

She proceeded to go into a tirade about people in this building using racist terms before, and how Americans in Los Angeles and in general are constantly racist and she has had enough of it.

It apparently hasn’t occurred to her that she lives in one of the most liberal cities in the United States; nor that she always has the option to move back to France.  She said that she could not have this conversation with me and the handful of others in the courtyard, that she had to have a private discussion with our building manager.

“It was really nice to meet you.  You’ve made a great first impression,” I said.  She exploded.
“Why are you being a dick to me?” she asked.
“Lady, you’re the one being a dick,” I said.

Her rage filled as our building manager played peacemaker and took her out of the conversation.  They took a seat on the sidewalk next to our courtyard and had a 30 minute discussion and solved the problem of race relations, both in our building and throughout the world.

The horrible attitude, the constant berating of her husband, exploitative actions,  and overall twattiness nearly made me impotent.  She has the worst traits of any person I’ve ever encountered, and I pity her husband for procreating with her via in vitro.

Since viewing the episode, I’ve thought of ways to exact revenge on her for stealing those minutes of my life.  Looks like her hairstylist beat me to it.

It doesn’t stop Kate from continuing her self-praise and being delusional.   From US Weekly:

Kate Gosselin says her spiky bob hairstyle reflects her feisty personality.

“It’s my attitude! Everybody wants it. It’s work,” she tells Entertainment Weekly.

But not everybody can pull it off.

“I have very, very thick hair, so it’s not going to work for everybody,” she says. “I’ve seen people come through the book line with thin hair and it’s just won’t work. My hair stylist gets calls from all across the country.”

It’s tough deciding what’s more ridiculous:  Kate believing people want her attitude or that people across the nation want the same hairstyle.  I highly doubt anyone wants a style that looks like a beaver tail is flopping in front of your face while a hedgehog sits atop your head.