Last night, the Academy of Country Music Awards were held in Las Vegas. It’s easy to get the ACM’s confused with the CMA’s, because much like commercial country music, it’s all just the same shit in a slightly different order.

Three years ago, Troy Gentry pled guilty to shooting a domesticated, caged bear named “Cubby.” This year the ACM gave Montgomery Gentry their humanitarian award. As horrible as that may be, it still shows more integrity than giving them an award for their music.

Fancy!

Seriously, you’re going to put on that jacket and a $500 cowboy hat, with a perfectly groomed cock trellis for a mustache and expect two weak fists to make you look tough? That just makes it look like the Village People’s wardrobe boy was phoning it in.

Brad Paisley has a paisley print guitar? Well isn’t that just darling.

So, I guess, ultimately, Charlie Daniels lost that fiddle competition with the devil and his soul.

When I saw this, I immediately googled “John Fogerty, IRS problems,” and nothing came up. Did I misspell his name or something?

Taylor Swift performed but didn’t win any awards, which proves there is a God, but he’s a vengeful bastard.

Keith Urban waxes his chest, because, you know, that’s country.

Carrie Underwood won Entertainer of the Year. What? It’s not like they call the category Artist of the Year.

I just can’t figure out how Laura Bell Bundy got a record deal. No idea at all.

Someday, Cowboy Troy will write his auto-biography. It will be the most disturbing book ever written, described as a combination of To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Diary of Anne Frank, and the Cocaine Chronicles.

“I can hear the ocean— and it’s selling out… wait, that’s my blood.”

The moment Fergie walked on stage at the Grammy’s wearing a metal visor and matching codpiece, somewhere backstage, a disgruntled wardrobe person won a $10 bet and grinned big enough to make another year of this bullshit seem worthwhile.

Something is seriously wrong with our society’s disconnect from reality. Watching these four clowns dressed like villains from a bad Tron spinoff jump around for three minutes and yell “mazoltov” in a robot voice doesn’t make your credit card debt go away.

Does Ke$ha always look like she just got fucked in the ass for heroin for the first time? Is that her thing? Cool.

It’s hard to believe Jamie Foxx sounded more ridiculous than he looked.

That “Blame it on the Alcohol” song by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain won a Grammy for best R&B performance by a duo or group with vocals. Yeah, vocals. That, in a nutshell is the state of the music industry today.

Lady Gaga brought some class and artistry to the crowd. Seriously. Yes, I am looking at the same picture as you.

If Lady Gaga doesn’t occasionally lie in bed at night and giggle, no one does.

If I was involved enough in Native American culture to make an album Native American music, it would take more than one trophy to make me this nice to white people.

Honestly, it’s got to be really hard to be in your mid thirties and to try to compete with Lady Gaga. You go get ‘em, Pink!

When Lionel Ritchie sees kids that are too fucked up to have a chance, he knows it.

As if it’s not strange enough to be raised by Michael Jackson, to have your father die so publicly, and for you to be used by his remaining family for fame and fortune, it has to be a serious head fuck when your dead, pedophile father is broadcast in 3-D.

“Seriously, you gonna give me crap? Taylor Swift won five fucking Grammys. I may be a part of the American Idol bullshit pop machine, but at least I can sing other people’s songs well. That bitch is tone deaf. No seriously, did you hear her with Stevie Nicks? Jesus Christ, that was fucking horrible. I mean Stevie was great, but shit, that was shameful. Honestly, I just feel bad for the other musicians here. It really devalues their work and talent. It’s a shame.”

I had to no idea you could actually see someone missed a note.

“Oh wow, Record of the Year—jeez, gosh, I don’t know what to say– I’d like to thank God, or as you call him, “Satan.’”

You think a lot of little girls ask their fathers for ponies? Wait until they find out that Taylor Swift’s dad bought her first million albums before they were ever recorded in order to get her a record deal.

Taylor Swift’s rise to the top has been so warrantless and without merit, that I’m actually starting to fear her inevitable train wreck will be too tragic for me to enjoy.

And of course, congratulations to Booker T and all the many, many more very talented artists who won and were nominated for untelevised awards. Except Michael Buble. He knows why.

Oasis will reunite, and then breakup again following a slap fight after Noel accidentally wore one of Liam’s Polo shirts.

Due to overly constricting skinny jeans and the lack of support in Chuck Taylor’s, a hipster will lose control of his muted, self-conscious dancing and spill an ironic beer on Animal Collective’s equipment and electrocute them all. No one will notice, as it sounds more or less the same. It doesn’t sound bad per se, if that’s your kind of thing, just about the same.

Madonna’s shriveled and aged vagina will fall out of her pants during a trip to Africa. Her fans will call it a brave statement of sexual independence, while locals will use it as birth control.

Jay Reatard will slap his biggest fan in the face with his dick, and yet it will still be pretty cool.

Bon Jovi will release an album so bad that it will actually find your old copy of “Slippery When Wet” and destroy it.

The Back Eyed Peas will release an autotuned recording of Fergie having an abortion. It will break all known sales records.

Taylor Swift: Scientologist.

Courtney Love will lose custody of her taxidermy turtle due to a court order sighting the dead turtle’s best interests.

Jack White will do something awesome.

Meg White, “1..2..3..4…1..2..3… wait, what’s next? Pills!”

Rihanna will get back together with Chris Brown, and he will hit her again. No, it’s not funny, but if I’m making predictions, I’m going with the statistics.

U2 will release an album that’s pretty good, but not as good as you had hoped.

Lady Gaga will wear a dress made entirely out of crippled children.

Caleb Followell will fuck the only girl in Europe that he hasn’t yet.

The Drive-by Truckers will release an album so good that I actually piss myself and even decide I don’t mind telling people about it.

Kanye West: quite frankly I don’t give a fuck.

The Stone Temple Pilots will continue to be “almost finished” with their new album.

Galactic will release an album featuring guest spots by the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Trombone Shorty, and several of New Orleans’ finest tranny rappers, and it will be fucking awesome.

After smoking a rock cooked from his own finger nail clippings and a five hour energy shot, Lil Wayne will have an epiphany and put down the fucking prop guitar.

The Remaining Jackson 4 will dig up Michael’s body and Weekend-at-Bernie’s him while making Christ like comparisons for the season finale of their reality show. To ensure ample media coverage, Michael’s corpse will molest a little boy.

Jermaine Jackson accepting the award for best pop/rock male artist, in honor of his brother, a dead, drug-riddled, child molester who didn’t release an album this year. Nothing strange about that.

Due to extenuating craziness, I think we have all over looked the significance and hilarity of the fact that Jermaine Jackson has a son named “Jermajesty.” No shit, that’s really his name.

On the outside, it probably seems like Daughtry’s go it made. He doesn’t do jack shit and he gets paid in cocaine and pussy, but underneath it all, he has to feel like Don Draper if his wife, three pregnant chicks, his long lost brother, and his real birth certificate all walkedinto his office at the same time.

“Oh no, Whitney, no. No, you can’t use this to chisel away the oxycontin hardened shit bricks in your asshole. No, this is an award of some sort.”

“Well thanks for nothing than, jackasses! Now, someone get me my pills, my crow bar, and some KY. Momma needs to empty.”

Keith Urban waxes his chest. That ain’t country.

At that exact moment, Nicole’s head spun furiously and her life crashed out of control, as she realized she has a “type.”

Yeah, sure, I listen to World Music.

I can’t tell if Taylor Swift is acting like she didn’t know she would win after they brought in a full camera crew, set up a lighting rig, did her makeup, and tested her mic feed before setting up a live satellite feed across the globe, or if she is actually surprised, because she knows she can’t sing and can’t believe the charade has gone this far either.

What do you mean that’s not country? It clearly says “saloon” on the lcd screen behind Carrie Underwood.

Beyond the savage beating, beyond the media frenzy, and beyond the commercial exploitation of a very serious problem, we all seem to have overlooked the fact that Rihanna can’t sing worth a shit.

“So, how are we going to handle Rihanna’s first televised performance after being brutally beaten Chris Brown in the public eye?”

“Hmm, how about we have her sing a song called Russian Roulette with the lyrics “I’m terrified, but I’m not leaven’, no I know that I must pass this test, so just pull the trigger,” while she’s wearing a see through body suit with spikes on the shoulder as she dances with dudes with ninja masks and glass boxes on their heads?”

“Perfect.”

In a world where Taylor Swift is artist of the year, I guess a chick in a nude suit with a fake dick taped down with some queer bird backup dancers is pretty sexy.

Lady Gaga has this awesome situation where no matter what she does, her defenders can say “yeah but, she’s trying to be weird.” That’s like using dynamite in rock, paper, scissors.

People say, “Well, Will.i.am just figured out the formula and is making pop hits- he’s just playing the game. You have to respect a guy who knows how to do that…” No, fuck you. I don’t respect that. I respect a guy who figured out the formula to make a shitty hit, but still makes good music anyway. It’s not a complicated formula for, fuck’s sake. He’s wearing a god damned Elvis whig while played a keytar and using “Mozol Tov!” as a lyric. That’s fucking retarded.

Don’t you feel stupid for hoping we could fix this country a few months ago?

A video this man made moved more Americans to vote for President than ever before, yet we have the nerve to look down on both Mexican politics and soap operas.

That other dude looks so much like a chick that it’s hard to believe it upset anybody. Then again, once you give a dude a confused boner, you know you’re gonna hear about “evil” and “sin” for days.

It would be easier to make fun of Adam Lambert, if he didn’t do this after his performance.