Celebs We'd Like To See In A Fight Club

Donald Trump (category: Rich white guy)

If there is only one person who genuinely has it coming, it’s this douchebag. Sure, he has billions of dollars and just about as many bodyguards. So what? In our world, those are just reasons to hand him his ass in a brown paper bag. We want to grab that ridiculous-looking toupee off his head and shove it down his throat. We actually thought [some] women went after guys for other reasons than money, but after “The Donald” scored Ivanka, Marla Maples and -- most recently -- Melania, we have our doubts. What’s that you say? We’re just jealous? Sure, that may be, but how good would it feel to smack the smug off his paunchy red face? I'm fired? Bitch, you're liquidated.

Oprah (Talk show host)

What can we say about the queen bee of talk shows, book clubs and increasingly almost everything else?  Little miss meddles-a-lot got mega rich, first and foremost, from her endless TV-talk show blabbery.  We don't know what she talks about, but everywhere we look, Oprah is there: TV, movies and even magazines. Our bleeding hearts are with her as she helps the poor and needy of the world... right after she hops in her private jet and flies back to her own personal “Promised Land,” which is a 42-acre ocean and mountain view estate in Montecito, California, outside of Santa Barbara. Which she paid $50,000,000 for. With a personal check. Ahem. That alone makes us want to repeatedly feed her a healthy knuckle sandwich.  We just can’t decide which Oprah we want to fight: the small, medium or large version.

Paris Hilton (TV celebrity)

If we hear “That’s hot,” one more time, we will punch through the Earth's crust so that the planet can puke along with us.  Seriously. Famous for nothing, Paris has to be one of the most annoying bitches in the known universe. Her first feature film intrigued us, 1 Night in Paris, but as soon as the dialog started, we went soft. We also thought seeing her “work” real jobs on The Simple Life might be amusing. Not so.  Watching a rich, spoiled brat be a rich, spoiled brat mocking poor hard-working people just wasn’t cool. Then she tried a “legitimate” acting career in The House of Wax, which just showed us that she used the skills from her first movie to get that part. And then she thought she was a singer. Where was Simon Cowell on that one? We just want it to stop. We want to destroy something beautiful. And she’s right there near the top of our list.

Edward Furlong (category: child/teen actor)

There’s nothing we hate more than a bad sequel. And a good way to do that is cast a virtually unknown child “star.” Enter Edward Furlong and his horrible portrayal of the young John Conner in Terminator 2. In the course of almost single-handedly ruining one of the most loved action franchises of all-time, his coup de grace is the scene in which Furlong tells the Arnold's Terminator that “you just can’t just go around killing people.” Eh? Seriously? He’s a fucking TERMINATOR. That’s like telling a toaster it can’t make toast anymore. I know it wasn’t his idea, but it’s just the way he says it – it’s like nails on a chalkboard. How his performance landed his spot in American History X is beyond us. Oh yeah, they wanted an annoying, whiny brat to play a teen Nazi. Perfect then. We want a piece and we’re ready to bring it.  PS Detroit Rock City.

Mark Cuban (category: non-athlete who wishes he was an athlete)

Sometimes when you make millions of dollars and you can do pretty much anything you want, you still shouldn’t do it. Take, for example, computer and business entrepreneur Mark Cuban. What did he do with his trucks full of cash? Why, he bought the Dallas Mavericks, that’s what. While this in itself isn’t that bad, his over-the-top sideline behavior is beyond unacceptable. Dude, just because you never got picked in gym class, and now you actually own the team, that doesn’t mean you are actually on the team. So the next time there’s a bench-clearing brawl in Dallas, we’ll be looking for you. You're not how much money you have in the bank.