I bought this album. In fact, I think its the very LAST CD I bought back in 2005. It made sense then, and DEFINITELY makes sense now! If I had to do it again, though. I would buy TWO of this album, and keep the second wrapped in its original packaging. This album was to your subwoofers, what we established Shia LaBouf is to everything – MOTIVATION to be your best! On this Monday, for your bass, for dat ass, and for the rest of the week – GO NUTZ!
In case you haven’t been paying attention to this legend, Shia Labouf has been pursuing tutelage in the Fine Arts for the better part of the last two years. Between silent hour long interviews, his head full of baggy tricks denouncing fame, and general phuckery of the last 2 years culminating in his latest ploy, it’s clear Shia has dove balls-deep into the theatrics.
You just don’t get it. That’s okay, you’re only Human! But, Shia’s got you covered. In his latest project, he fires off some motivation bars that would make Tony Robbins, get up and wrestle Hulk Hogan! Watch the video… JUST DO IT!
So that was a minute excerpt of the 30 minute tirade in front of a green screen. That’s ALL the internet needed. In a matter of hours, we’ve found Shia in some troubling and self-doubting circumstances to give that little push:
Yo, you, over there! Yeah, you! The one with the face. Let me ask you a question. Why the hell aren’t we exploring space yet? Seriously, dude. What’s up with that? We should be out there in the stars, cruising through wormholes, bending space-time, warp driving ourselves to far-off rocks rotating in the great, dark abyss. Think about the things we could find! Think about all the life, the death, the purgatory, hidden away in the shadows of stars. Think about the possibilities. It’s all out there. You know how I know it’s out there? That fruit.
You know what that fruit is right there? That’s a SATURN peach. SATURN. You know, the PLANET? You know, in SPACE? THAT PRETTY MUCH CONFIRMS THAT THIS PEACH IS AN ALIEN SPECIES BIRTHED IN PLANETARY RINGS. Oh sure, I’m admittedly no Prunus perscia expert, so I can’t actually say that it’s legitimately from Saturn, but I’m going to take the colloquial name at face value here and ride with it. A SATURN peach. That’s a hell of a lot more exotic than your lowly Georgia peach. Get out of here with your Earth fruit. I want that intergalactic shit. Then again, I am the kind of guy who’s really into space fruit, I guess.
Imagine what other foods we could harvest in space… Mercury pork chops! Pluto (R.I.P. planetary status. Shout out to true believers who still rep hard for the Solar System Nine.) hotcakes! Martian macaroni! Shhhhh. Don’t give me that “macaroni is processed food that’s one hundred percent manmade” naysaying. We don’t know what macaroni does in space. If Saturn shits out peaches, why can’t noodles sprout on Mars?
That SATURN peach was pretty damn delicious. I need more cosmic cooking. Send me all the alien food! Give me Neptune eggnog! Give me Venus waffles! Give me Jupiter hoagies! It’s all delicious. It’s all perfect. It’s all OUT OF THIS WORLD. There’s not a single food item whose celestial counterpart fails in comparison. Not even desserts. Picture how satisfyingly moist and delicious it would be to take a big ole’ chomp into a piping hot brownie straight from the gaseous depths of Uranus!
Yup. This entire post was a whole lot of meaningless build up to a terrible poop joke. It’s Monday. Deal with it.