Amy Schumer’s New Clothing Line For Sak’s Off Fifth Is Proof Positive There Is Nothing She Will Not Attempt To Ruin
Follow and Subscribe to Turtleboy podcasts on SoundCloud or iTunes by clicking here.
Want to advertise with Turtleboy? Email us at [email protected] for more information.
If you like free speech and want to support what we’re doing, feel free to donate to the Turtle fund:
Hello Turtle Riders. As you know if you follow Turtleboy we are constantly getting censored and banned by Facebook for what are clearly not violations of their terms of service. Twitter has done the same, and trolls mass reported our blog to Google AdSense thousands of times, leading to demonitization. We can get by and survive, but we could really use your help. Please consider donating by hitting the PayPal button above if you’d like support free speech and what we do in the face of Silicon Valley censorship. Or just buy our award winning book about the dangers of censorship and rise of Turtleboy:
It is an indisputable scientific fact that Amy Schumer ruins everything her greasy sausage mitts touch.
First, she infected Netflix with her abomination of a “comedy” special, that consisted of an hour straight of fixation on her stench ridden vagina, musing on the taste of jizz, peppered with a few stolen jokes. Walking through a pediatric burn ward would be more amusing than listening to Amy Schumer. And when her dumpster fire tanked, she cried foul and blamed the “alt-right trolls” for tanking her reviews, as if a fat chick sweltering like a side of beef in it’s leather skin talking about the barnyard animal stench of her lower blowhole was destined to kill it. It wasn’t, Amy. I’ve had migraines funnier than you.
Then, she decided to impart her own set of “rules” onto comedy. Because screeching out endless sets of boring, played out raunchy bullshit masking her soft bigotry wasn’t enough.
Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You’re the kind of chick who I am fairly certain intentionally made herself fat and dumpy-looking, just so she could rail on herself for being fat and dumpy, because you’re too chicken shit to just make fat girl jokes as a skinny broad. Fuck you and your self loathing bullshit, Amy. Comedy is all we have left in today’s ultra-sensitive, intolerant of intolerance pussywhipped PC culture. Larry David and Lenny Bruce joked about the Holocaust. Eddie Murphy used race to build himself a flourishing career. The mark of a skilled comedian is the ability to elicit laughs from the darkest parts of our history, society and selves, and Amy Schumer wants to destroy that because she doesn’t have the chops. Fuck you, you untalented, bloated Jizz Jacuzzi.
There was also the time she came after yet another beloved American commodity – beer….
This self loathing cow is truly hell bent on destroying America, and must be stopped. Just when you think her reign of criminally unfunny destruction has been contained, she decides to go and pull this shit:
Jesus H Christ, this gelatinous joke assassin strikes again. Comedy wasn’t enough, beer wasn’t enough. Ruining Netflix wasn’t enough. Now she’s coming at us with her “affordable” and “size inclusive” brand of bag lady clothes. What does “size inclusive” look like, you probably aren’t asking, but I’m going to show you anyway.
I’m offender for fat chicks everywhere. The only thing that would make remotely any sense about the marketability of this line of overpriced garbage bags is if each purchase included a rescue cat and box of White Zinfandel. Amy Schumer’s idea of “body inclusive” wear is to just hide fat chicks under layers of shapeless drab colors. That’s not body positive, Amy. That’s just projecting how much you fucking hate yourself onto the rest of the world with a $200 price tag attached. Anyone who actually pays $138.00 plus tax for this Wal-Mart special of the week cat lady bullshit deserves a lobotomy, stat. I don’t know how they managed to almost fully portray how unflattering these clothes are without putting a model in them, but they did. Almost.
Amy Schumer’s Le Cloud – Perfect for the average woman who is sick and tired of having any shape to her body, the kind of woman who dresses only in the colors of an ashamedly spinster Amish woman, the kind of woman who finds having any money left over after shopping for sweat suits and lean cuisine frozen dinners for one annoying. The kind of women who puts on a shapeless t shirt with pronounced pit stains and shapeless joggers to sit down and laugh at Amy Schumer’s inane prattle about her rancid bearded clam.