Justin Timberlake is a Motherf--ker

Color me badd.

There are plenty of guilty pleasures we hide underneath the surface and if those "pleasures" were to rise above the surface, you sho' have lots of 'splainin' to do. It was fitting to combine three guilty pleasures all in one evening: Justin Timberlake, watching Saturday Night Live, and f--king mothers (other mothers, not your own).

Timberlake and nerdcore rap extraordinaire Andy Samburg got rid of their gift-wrapped dick boxes and went with this raunchy yet understandable ode to doing each other's mother. And it totally worked, dammit.

SNL works for entertainers like Timberlake. He has charisma and acting and comedic chops. And he goes up there with the recurring hosts that you know can make an instant impact on the show (i.e. Steve Martin, Alec Baldwin).

Timberlake also linked up with Jimmy Fallon (douche) to collaborate on The Barry Gibb Talk Show, which is still a favorite [guilty pleasure] of mine.

Trouser Snake Timberlake's SNL appearance vids:

My Cock is Really Confused

Photoshop at its worst.

You read it right. My cock Cornelius is really confused.

He woke me up in the middle of the night, pecking his beak through my blanket. I thought I had a wonderful dream. Then, "Corny," as I like to call him, wanted to interrupt me.

I asked, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Cornelius?"

Then, he just stared at me with his head all high with that same smug disposition he has during these odd hours of the night.

Cornelius, then, pecked at my hand with his beak and let out a crow. "ERRRrrrr!," he roared.

I tried to shut him up with shushes and "be quiets" but Cornelius wanted something. I wasn't sure what that was.

Corny, then, flapped his wings, landed on the night stand adjacent, and pecked his beak on the television controller on the night stand. The blaring of the TV filled the empty room as Corny and I stared at a television program.

It was apparently a late night television program with a talking, standing tool. I couldn't make out what he was saying but he kept making these incoherent statements like "shorts are short and pants are long."

There was also a woman on the program. A beautiful blonde young woman no older than 25 with flowing blonde locks, a low cut skirt dress, and ample breasts. She was the kind of woman who you swore was an athlete once but decided to make due looking beautiful instead.

Cornelius stared at the flashing images, twisting his head. Upon looking at the program, Cornelius let out a loud call, louder than ever before. And it became repetitve, almost as if a seizure was happening. All I could do was stare as my spastic cock became unruly.

I stared back at the TV and then back to my cock and then back to my TV. What the hell was so interesting, I thought. "This guy is not funny at all," I said. "I don't like him one bit. There's no charisma!"

All I could see was the male host pretending to be funny while the charming blonde made efforts to look adorable and cute. It was mind-boggling to me.

I decided to end the noise being made by clutching the remote control from my cock and turning off the TV.

"Never again, Corny," I told him as I slapped my cock on the head.

What Cornelius and I watched last night:

The Jersey Shore D-Bag

No caption needed. I mean, look at them!

Jimmy Fallon scored a mild laugh from Monday night's Late Night program with a short film on the show's most fitting key demographic, the "Jersey Shore D-Bag." I will not bore you with the elaboration on why D-Bags and Jimmy Fallon are fit for each other like Carson Daly and...ahem...D-Bags, I mean, considering both are D-Bags in everyway.

They did one of these "Getting to Know Your Demographic" thingies in the premiere show highlighting blonde moms from Connecticut. (Nothing but silence during that.)

But this actually is a slight improvement from the poo Fallon has been flinging. Fallon still sucks in my book but to slightly a lower degree from before.

I give you the Jersey Shore D-Bags:

He's Barry F'n Gibb!

Chest hair and crazy cool medallions. Douchiness at its finest.

Sometimes, I'd like to think I'm not a douchebag. But there's little time to explain the reasons why I may be so. While you're conjuring up some ideas, here's ace douche Jimmy Fallon at his best (and I say that very loosely) doing his SNL skit as Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees hosting a political talk show. (Again, someone decided to throw darts at a wall of ideas.) I actually find this f'n hilarious but I tend to forget that Fallon is a high-pitched, bearded sissy boy with Tourette's. Barry Gibb is not half bad either. Oh, yeah. There's Justin Timberlake as Barry's running partner Robin Gibb. (Who would have played Maurice Gibb? Joey F'n Fatone? Lance F'n Bass?)

UPDATE: The douchebag Fallon is on Rachael Ray right now. HTF is this day happening?