Remember the cause.
We tend to get carried away, each of us in our own particular idiom,
and forget the cause...the reason why we are here in the first place.
We tend to forget those ideas and dreams that made us the bastions,
the paragons of power we represent today. We tend to forget about the
chain in our face that inspired the world to turn and burn under the
cloven sandal of the difference we intended to pioneer. We tend to
forget our dreams, our hopes, our dependencies. We tend towards the
small at the sake of the great. We tend to lose when we intended to
win. We tend in so many ways, at the destiny of the lost and the all
too personal. We tend uselessly, needlessly, superficially but never
recklessly. We tend and we tend and we tend to say "maybe" when we
really want to say "I don't even know how to stop." We tend to be
subjective when we should be objective. We tend to lie awake at night
wondering where we went wrong. We tend to all the wrong fields at all
the wrong times. We tend to forget the cause.
It all began with an idea, so simple, so delicate, so tragically
horrifying. Something I was present for the birth of, that was
disgusting and stunning all at the same time. Even I was offended that
such an idea could gestate, and yet proud, like when Oppenheimer
invented the nuclear weapon, both in awe and fear of the effect his
actions would have on the world. But as John said, when the science is
sweet, you must proceed. It is your duty to see it through to the
bitter, glorious end and whether history branded you a hero or a
monster be damned. If you believe in a thing enough, it is your right,
your duty, your desperate privilege to step into infinity with it.
Though my contribution could be generously considered but a half of a
percentage to the thing which I refer, I still carry that weight with
pride. I was there, I was an accomplice to the idea, and I stand
proudly by the thing that could make Satan weep. History be damned.
Granny-Face.
God Bless America!
About Me
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
I am Pro-French
I am. I really am. It is so cosmopolitan to bash the frogs these days,
but I try to veer from it.
Don't mistake me, I think Paris is the equivalent of the pipes that lead to
the sewer underneath Taco Bell. Paris is filthy, stinky, filled with
the worst people France has to offer and even the brilliant
architecture, history and art barely redeem the place. I went there
and it is just your average large city: Filled with self-righteous
pricks who give you dish water when you ask for Evian; Conglomerations
of drunks and perverts; over-priced, under-crafted EVERYTHING; and did
I mention the self-righteous pricks? It really is worth mentioning
twice. The Arc de Triomphe is awesome, Champs-Élysées is striking, and
the Louvre has some doodles from finger painters no one can remember,
and even these marvels hardly make the city worth it. You get a free
dose of herpes when you land at the airport, for the love of Moses.
When young people, usually women, tell me they just HAVE to see Paris
because it is so beautiful and romantic, I always have to laugh to
myself. Like meat for the beast, if, AS I SAID, the beast has a
jillion assholes, unrinates openly in the streets and gives everybody
genital sores. Paris is soooo not your friend.
Still I am pro-French. The country side is gorgeous. The small town
folk are wonderful and the food is beyond reproach. The women are
beautiful and the men speak French, which I guess is attractive. They
have a one word term for three people fucking at the same time:
Manage-o-Three. Wonderful, horny, delicious people reflective of the
landscape and indicitive of why they are revered as alcohol makers and
takers. Full of life, love and wonderment. Simply gorgeous. Of course
there was that time they helped the NAZIs. Yeah, it is true. Half of
them helped the most evil group of people in the last few hundred
years enact a genocidal dictatorship. Just kidding...It was juuuuuuust
under half. Not NAZI sympathizers, mind you, NAZI abetters. That is
really something that no one ever gets over. You could save the world
from Aliens, but there will always be a huge "fuck you" in the history
books next to that. Which reminds me, I am also pro-Catholic, but fuck
you guys too. You did the same thing, Monsignor.
But STILL I am pro-French. Like Monty Python said, they think well,
and they do. Descartes, Molierre, Voltaire, Montaigne, Pascal,
Rousseau, and on and on. Brilliant thinkers. All worthy of redeeming
any negative thing you could say derogatorily about the French. Except
that maybe, they have not done or created anything like this in the
last 300 years. Age of Enlightenment French would weep at the sad,
prurient, spiked tendencies of the modern French. Truly, well they
should. Every culture has had great additions to the human landscape
since the age of Industry, buuuuuuuuuut...yeah...not so much them.
Despite making really rich cheeses, have not really done anything in
the better part of four or five generations.
And yet, cest la vie, I am pro-French. They were the allies of our
colonies when we fought the brutal British over-lords for
independance. They supplied ways, feeds and means for our freedom and
even lent us the teachings of Montesquieu for our so precious
Constitution. Surely there can be no admonition for such a exemplary
act. EXCEPT that during the Civil War, when some of us were fighting
to free the enslaved and tortured Africans we had stolen and give them
the freedom they had been starved of, the French took the pro-slavery
side. We looked at one of the darkest times in our history and said
"Enough is enough! No more barbarianism!" and the French sided with
the most blinkered and horrible amongst us and said "...Well,
actually, yeah, just a bit more, merci." They supported racial and
religious persecution openly, proudly and with their money and guns.
But still, I am pro-French. Even though they really don't like me
because I am American. Which I can understand, really. The last thing
we ever did for them was to save them in WW2, along with the British
and Russians. Our bad, I guess. What were we thinking? Would they like
us to apologize and rename Callay to Hitlersburg? I am going to go
out on a limb here and say they are comparably as shitty to the limes
and reds as well as us yanks. Just a stab in the dark.
And yet, I will always be pro-French...Despite the fact Jim Morrison
is burried there and I really find him to be a disgraceful,
disgusting, embarrasment in life as well as death, and that is really
saying something for me. When people die, I tend to lay off of them,
but not that fat piece of shit. He is probably happy that dirty drug
addicts fuck each other and have abortions on his grave. To say he is
a dirt-bag is an insult to bags of dirt everywhere. Wrap him in a
carpet and throw it in a river then hurl the river into space.
The French actually have a word for a homeless degenerate that is prone to
sleeping in his own shit. Apparently it is so common of an occurrance,
they have a one-word phrase for a homeless person who lacks such
humanity as to NOT sleep in his own shit. (Pause for a second to let
that sink in. So common is this, that MORE than one word was so
wasting their time that they re-did their dictionary. Sacrebleu!)
In point of fact, I AM VERY PRO-FRENCH! I wrote them a letter one time
telling them that I was an enormous fan to which they promptly replied
and surrendered the country to me.
God Bless America and Vive La France!
but I try to veer from it.
Don't mistake me, I think Paris is the equivalent of the pipes that lead to
the sewer underneath Taco Bell. Paris is filthy, stinky, filled with
the worst people France has to offer and even the brilliant
architecture, history and art barely redeem the place. I went there
and it is just your average large city: Filled with self-righteous
pricks who give you dish water when you ask for Evian; Conglomerations
of drunks and perverts; over-priced, under-crafted EVERYTHING; and did
I mention the self-righteous pricks? It really is worth mentioning
twice. The Arc de Triomphe is awesome, Champs-Élysées is striking, and
the Louvre has some doodles from finger painters no one can remember,
and even these marvels hardly make the city worth it. You get a free
dose of herpes when you land at the airport, for the love of Moses.
When young people, usually women, tell me they just HAVE to see Paris
because it is so beautiful and romantic, I always have to laugh to
myself. Like meat for the beast, if, AS I SAID, the beast has a
jillion assholes, unrinates openly in the streets and gives everybody
genital sores. Paris is soooo not your friend.
Still I am pro-French. The country side is gorgeous. The small town
folk are wonderful and the food is beyond reproach. The women are
beautiful and the men speak French, which I guess is attractive. They
have a one word term for three people fucking at the same time:
Manage-o-Three. Wonderful, horny, delicious people reflective of the
landscape and indicitive of why they are revered as alcohol makers and
takers. Full of life, love and wonderment. Simply gorgeous. Of course
there was that time they helped the NAZIs. Yeah, it is true. Half of
them helped the most evil group of people in the last few hundred
years enact a genocidal dictatorship. Just kidding...It was juuuuuuust
under half. Not NAZI sympathizers, mind you, NAZI abetters. That is
really something that no one ever gets over. You could save the world
from Aliens, but there will always be a huge "fuck you" in the history
books next to that. Which reminds me, I am also pro-Catholic, but fuck
you guys too. You did the same thing, Monsignor.
But STILL I am pro-French. Like Monty Python said, they think well,
and they do. Descartes, Molierre, Voltaire, Montaigne, Pascal,
Rousseau, and on and on. Brilliant thinkers. All worthy of redeeming
any negative thing you could say derogatorily about the French. Except
that maybe, they have not done or created anything like this in the
last 300 years. Age of Enlightenment French would weep at the sad,
prurient, spiked tendencies of the modern French. Truly, well they
should. Every culture has had great additions to the human landscape
since the age of Industry, buuuuuuuuuut...yeah...not so much them.
Despite making really rich cheeses, have not really done anything in
the better part of four or five generations.
And yet, cest la vie, I am pro-French. They were the allies of our
colonies when we fought the brutal British over-lords for
independance. They supplied ways, feeds and means for our freedom and
even lent us the teachings of Montesquieu for our so precious
Constitution. Surely there can be no admonition for such a exemplary
act. EXCEPT that during the Civil War, when some of us were fighting
to free the enslaved and tortured Africans we had stolen and give them
the freedom they had been starved of, the French took the pro-slavery
side. We looked at one of the darkest times in our history and said
"Enough is enough! No more barbarianism!" and the French sided with
the most blinkered and horrible amongst us and said "...Well,
actually, yeah, just a bit more, merci." They supported racial and
religious persecution openly, proudly and with their money and guns.
But still, I am pro-French. Even though they really don't like me
because I am American. Which I can understand, really. The last thing
we ever did for them was to save them in WW2, along with the British
and Russians. Our bad, I guess. What were we thinking? Would they like
us to apologize and rename Callay to Hitlersburg? I am going to go
out on a limb here and say they are comparably as shitty to the limes
and reds as well as us yanks. Just a stab in the dark.
And yet, I will always be pro-French...Despite the fact Jim Morrison
is burried there and I really find him to be a disgraceful,
disgusting, embarrasment in life as well as death, and that is really
saying something for me. When people die, I tend to lay off of them,
but not that fat piece of shit. He is probably happy that dirty drug
addicts fuck each other and have abortions on his grave. To say he is
a dirt-bag is an insult to bags of dirt everywhere. Wrap him in a
carpet and throw it in a river then hurl the river into space.
The French actually have a word for a homeless degenerate that is prone to
sleeping in his own shit. Apparently it is so common of an occurrance,
they have a one-word phrase for a homeless person who lacks such
humanity as to NOT sleep in his own shit. (Pause for a second to let
that sink in. So common is this, that MORE than one word was so
wasting their time that they re-did their dictionary. Sacrebleu!)
In point of fact, I AM VERY PRO-FRENCH! I wrote them a letter one time
telling them that I was an enormous fan to which they promptly replied
and surrendered the country to me.
God Bless America and Vive La France!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Sex is for the elderly
Forgive my prurient posting, but I was just kicking around a theory
that old people need more sex. I know that everyone just thought of an
old person they know, and mentally projected them into a pleasurable
stance of rectification, and probably vomited slightly in their own
mouths. For that, my sincerest apologies, but I think this theory,
though bound for endless controversy is not completely without merit.
Few reasonings behind this:
1- Sex is good. Really good. Like, "Let's start a fucking war to
impress those ladies over there" good. Like, "I would kill or die for
sex, whichever one would get me more, and quicker" good. Like "every
man dreams of passing into oblivion while clutched in the thighs of a
naughty woman" good. (I can do this all day.) Woody Allen said that
"Sex is like pizza, even when it's bad, it's still pretty good". That
is the best analogy for it I can think of. After a hard life,
undoubtedly filled with disappointment, a nice, stiff shagging would
definitely make it seem more rewarding. For the most part, our elder
generations are good enough people and certainly harmless in their
Autumn years, I think that as a humanitarian it is my duty to say that
old people deserve one last sex-capade, preferably several. After all,
do unto others, right? (For the record, I am not saying I want to fuck
an 80 year old woman. Stop looking at me like that.)
2- Sex, when done properly and at great length (Time-ways, not
Pun-ways...although the pun really does work too for that) is great
excercise. Good for the dexterity, works several different muscle
groups, helps the immune system (Not the STDs part. I'm not an idiot,
but it does get the blood pumping. I once cured a woman of diabetes
through mind blowing sex. True story...LADIES (wink)) and it is just
stellar for the cardio-vascular system. We may even add a few years
onto the average life span with the right combination of doggy-style
and reverse cowgirl. I know that sounds ridiculous, but save all your
rotten fruit throwing till the end please. Now, I am not saying mix
"geriatric style" with porn-grade circus-fuckery, that would just kill
these poor individuals (Quite happily) immediately, but enough so they
could endure it. Maybe put a little glide in the walker-laden stride;
A little skip in that plastic hip. And some third suggestive rhyme.
3- Attitude. Most elderly people have little respect for the younger
generations and vice versa, and I am not saying that we should get
20-year olds riding-the-pony with 90 year olds, but if everyone as a
general rule was fucking, I think we as a whole race would be much
happier. The days of yelling "Damn you kids! Get off my lawn!" would
segue into "Tell your daddy I need help trimming my bush, if you know
what I mean. Well, your DAD will." I have long held the belief that
everything, EVERY thing, even awful shit like torture looks better
after sex. (Think about it. You are getting tortured, but there is a
promise of oral sex following it, I think you are much more likely to
have a positive outlook during the horrible activities...anticipation
goes without saying really. A lot of guys I know would get in the
torture line willingly to put their pin in a grin. Hell, alright...me
too.) Think of the last time you really had a great round of
tug-o-groin, afterwards you did not care about a fucking thing, except
maybe, MAYBE doing that again. All the troubles of the world seem less
troubling and the colors seem brighter and music seems sweeter and the
fact that your house burned down doesn't bug you at all. ("Fuck that
silly house, we can make with the love under trees for all I care, and
next time let's use the whole fist.") (Now, I am NOT saying fist the
elderly, I am just drawing logical comparisons to illustrate a
subjective opinion. "Subjective" meaning, that I am also not saying
that I think people should be fisting at all...mostly mainly because I
don't want to be fisted myself. Also, NOT judging those that do.
Whatever floats your boat, is fine with me...the two midgets, the
donkey, the three other ladies with the tub of Crisco, the squirt gun
filled with whole milk, and the guy with the slippery fist. We are not
here to judge anyone. Remember that when you leave your comments.) My
point, sex makes people happier. (Again, definitely NOT fisting the elderly.)
4- Geriatric activities coordinators' jobs at nursing homes will
become the easiest paid positions in history if everyone adopts my
ideas. Period. Next fucking point.
5- Public service (Really more of a "pubic" service, but this way
sounds like we are doing something good for the economy) for both
those that don't get to get fucked and those that no one wants to
fuck. (Now, this is where I am going to lose everyone due to rancor
and disgust, but damn it, I have to say it.) Beautiful, sexy, supple
women don't like to fuck scrawny, pimply, nerdy nerds. I think we can
all get on the hot chicks's side of that line really. Now they are not
bad people, these unfuckable nerd types, and it is not their fault
that their nerdy father dropped an arithmetic load in their mother's
ivy league educated, HALO-playing womb, and I know these guys, it is
their dream to have tits rubbed in their faces. Why not saggy, vein
ridden ones? (Did I lose you? I lost you, didn't I.) Plus, there is no
way, these buck-toothed dweebs fuck these old ladies into the grave,
like say a chiseled Puerto-Rican 30-year old cock machine clearly
would. It performs a public service to both stereo-types, plus I know
little old ladies and nerds, the ceremonial breaking of the peanut
brittle after the cracking of the nuts would of bar-grade mitzvah.
Now, here is where I lose the rest of you...anyone ever see that
really big lady at the mall or store or beach or liposuction free
clinic whose thighs look like three pigs fighting to break free of the
spandex riding up her 8-foot ass crack? (Holy fuck, I think I just
lost MYSELF.) I am not talking about ladies with a weight problem,
(because I know women are sensitive about that and I would be KILLED
mercilessly as they beat me with their bags of shoes) and believe me
when I tell you there is a difference. My ex-wife was a plumper woman,
and I was with her for years, and SHE left ME, so think about that as
you load your shoes with bricks, damn it. I am talking about the woman
that looks like she ate another really fat woman, who ate Jaba the
Hutt. Don't bail out on me now damn it, we all know that lady. You can
probably even remember her smell. (I do, clerk at the movie store.
Nice woman, very talkative. Smelled so bad it could make Satan weep.)
She is a sweetheart and wonderful and a great person, but let's be
honest no one is going to want to fuck her. Think of the position you
would have to get her legs in just to enter that man-free gash and the
sight of that. Yeah. Exactly. You wouldn't send a guy you despised in
there. Now pair her up with the old dude that would love nothing more
than to feel something warm and wet on his dusty, Viagara-falsified
wrinkle-wand one more time before he breaths his last. Win-win
situation. (Also, if people had thought of this before hand, I would
not have just described that to you. Yeah. We could be talking about
cotton candy and shit. Just sailing that train out there.)
I believe this has promise, my bi-weekly geriatric-fuck-out-reach
program. Don't get all Puritanical and squeemish, or green and
nauseated, on me. You know deep down inside that there is nothing bad
about this, other than the nightmarish images of our grandparents
floating around and scarring us right now. We all need to nut up (NOT
literally) and do this. Let's pair up those men who could not get a
prostitute with your grandmother, and your grandfather with the woman
who's blood type is Ragu. Where is the victim? Exactly. It is good for
everyone, and has the possibility to make this world a more open,
disturbing and happier place.
As always, God bless America and AGAIN, definitely NOT fisting the elderly.
P.S. Here are the tags I attached for this post:
Sex, Elderly, oral sex, torture, controversy, sex-capade, porn, fuck,
fucking, get fucked, to fuck, circus-fuckery, fuck that, fuck you,
unfuckable, and NOT fisting the elderly
that old people need more sex. I know that everyone just thought of an
old person they know, and mentally projected them into a pleasurable
stance of rectification, and probably vomited slightly in their own
mouths. For that, my sincerest apologies, but I think this theory,
though bound for endless controversy is not completely without merit.
Few reasonings behind this:
1- Sex is good. Really good. Like, "Let's start a fucking war to
impress those ladies over there" good. Like, "I would kill or die for
sex, whichever one would get me more, and quicker" good. Like "every
man dreams of passing into oblivion while clutched in the thighs of a
naughty woman" good. (I can do this all day.) Woody Allen said that
"Sex is like pizza, even when it's bad, it's still pretty good". That
is the best analogy for it I can think of. After a hard life,
undoubtedly filled with disappointment, a nice, stiff shagging would
definitely make it seem more rewarding. For the most part, our elder
generations are good enough people and certainly harmless in their
Autumn years, I think that as a humanitarian it is my duty to say that
old people deserve one last sex-capade, preferably several. After all,
do unto others, right? (For the record, I am not saying I want to fuck
an 80 year old woman. Stop looking at me like that.)
2- Sex, when done properly and at great length (Time-ways, not
Pun-ways...although the pun really does work too for that) is great
excercise. Good for the dexterity, works several different muscle
groups, helps the immune system (Not the STDs part. I'm not an idiot,
but it does get the blood pumping. I once cured a woman of diabetes
through mind blowing sex. True story...LADIES (wink)) and it is just
stellar for the cardio-vascular system. We may even add a few years
onto the average life span with the right combination of doggy-style
and reverse cowgirl. I know that sounds ridiculous, but save all your
rotten fruit throwing till the end please. Now, I am not saying mix
"geriatric style" with porn-grade circus-fuckery, that would just kill
these poor individuals (Quite happily) immediately, but enough so they
could endure it. Maybe put a little glide in the walker-laden stride;
A little skip in that plastic hip. And some third suggestive rhyme.
3- Attitude. Most elderly people have little respect for the younger
generations and vice versa, and I am not saying that we should get
20-year olds riding-the-pony with 90 year olds, but if everyone as a
general rule was fucking, I think we as a whole race would be much
happier. The days of yelling "Damn you kids! Get off my lawn!" would
segue into "Tell your daddy I need help trimming my bush, if you know
what I mean. Well, your DAD will." I have long held the belief that
everything, EVERY thing, even awful shit like torture looks better
after sex. (Think about it. You are getting tortured, but there is a
promise of oral sex following it, I think you are much more likely to
have a positive outlook during the horrible activities...anticipation
goes without saying really. A lot of guys I know would get in the
torture line willingly to put their pin in a grin. Hell, alright...me
too.) Think of the last time you really had a great round of
tug-o-groin, afterwards you did not care about a fucking thing, except
maybe, MAYBE doing that again. All the troubles of the world seem less
troubling and the colors seem brighter and music seems sweeter and the
fact that your house burned down doesn't bug you at all. ("Fuck that
silly house, we can make with the love under trees for all I care, and
next time let's use the whole fist.") (Now, I am NOT saying fist the
elderly, I am just drawing logical comparisons to illustrate a
subjective opinion. "Subjective" meaning, that I am also not saying
that I think people should be fisting at all...mostly mainly because I
don't want to be fisted myself. Also, NOT judging those that do.
Whatever floats your boat, is fine with me...the two midgets, the
donkey, the three other ladies with the tub of Crisco, the squirt gun
filled with whole milk, and the guy with the slippery fist. We are not
here to judge anyone. Remember that when you leave your comments.) My
point, sex makes people happier. (Again, definitely NOT fisting the elderly.)
4- Geriatric activities coordinators' jobs at nursing homes will
become the easiest paid positions in history if everyone adopts my
ideas. Period. Next fucking point.
5- Public service (Really more of a "pubic" service, but this way
sounds like we are doing something good for the economy) for both
those that don't get to get fucked and those that no one wants to
fuck. (Now, this is where I am going to lose everyone due to rancor
and disgust, but damn it, I have to say it.) Beautiful, sexy, supple
women don't like to fuck scrawny, pimply, nerdy nerds. I think we can
all get on the hot chicks's side of that line really. Now they are not
bad people, these unfuckable nerd types, and it is not their fault
that their nerdy father dropped an arithmetic load in their mother's
ivy league educated, HALO-playing womb, and I know these guys, it is
their dream to have tits rubbed in their faces. Why not saggy, vein
ridden ones? (Did I lose you? I lost you, didn't I.) Plus, there is no
way, these buck-toothed dweebs fuck these old ladies into the grave,
like say a chiseled Puerto-Rican 30-year old cock machine clearly
would. It performs a public service to both stereo-types, plus I know
little old ladies and nerds, the ceremonial breaking of the peanut
brittle after the cracking of the nuts would of bar-grade mitzvah.
Now, here is where I lose the rest of you...anyone ever see that
really big lady at the mall or store or beach or liposuction free
clinic whose thighs look like three pigs fighting to break free of the
spandex riding up her 8-foot ass crack? (Holy fuck, I think I just
lost MYSELF.) I am not talking about ladies with a weight problem,
(because I know women are sensitive about that and I would be KILLED
mercilessly as they beat me with their bags of shoes) and believe me
when I tell you there is a difference. My ex-wife was a plumper woman,
and I was with her for years, and SHE left ME, so think about that as
you load your shoes with bricks, damn it. I am talking about the woman
that looks like she ate another really fat woman, who ate Jaba the
Hutt. Don't bail out on me now damn it, we all know that lady. You can
probably even remember her smell. (I do, clerk at the movie store.
Nice woman, very talkative. Smelled so bad it could make Satan weep.)
She is a sweetheart and wonderful and a great person, but let's be
honest no one is going to want to fuck her. Think of the position you
would have to get her legs in just to enter that man-free gash and the
sight of that. Yeah. Exactly. You wouldn't send a guy you despised in
there. Now pair her up with the old dude that would love nothing more
than to feel something warm and wet on his dusty, Viagara-falsified
wrinkle-wand one more time before he breaths his last. Win-win
situation. (Also, if people had thought of this before hand, I would
not have just described that to you. Yeah. We could be talking about
cotton candy and shit. Just sailing that train out there.)
I believe this has promise, my bi-weekly geriatric-fuck-out-reach
program. Don't get all Puritanical and squeemish, or green and
nauseated, on me. You know deep down inside that there is nothing bad
about this, other than the nightmarish images of our grandparents
floating around and scarring us right now. We all need to nut up (NOT
literally) and do this. Let's pair up those men who could not get a
prostitute with your grandmother, and your grandfather with the woman
who's blood type is Ragu. Where is the victim? Exactly. It is good for
everyone, and has the possibility to make this world a more open,
disturbing and happier place.
As always, God bless America and AGAIN, definitely NOT fisting the elderly.
P.S. Here are the tags I attached for this post:
Sex, Elderly, oral sex, torture, controversy, sex-capade, porn, fuck,
fucking, get fucked, to fuck, circus-fuckery, fuck that, fuck you,
unfuckable, and NOT fisting the elderly
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
They DERK OUR DERR!!!
That title only makes sense if you have seen South Park, namely the
episode(s) where the red-neck, over-all clad gomers are complaining
about how foreigners are taking their jobs. ("They took our jobs!" =
"They Derk Our DERR!") If you have not seen it, watch it and get a
humorous and accurate depiction of home-grown, Southern ignorance.
I saw a woman standing on the side of the road today with a
conspicuously American designed sign that read: "Keep our jobs in the
country!" Every few seconds she would spin it around and on the back
were pictures of children and some slogan about how we need to save
them for our children. The sentiment is not totally crazy and without
merit while at the same time being a bit blinkered. Sort of like having
your xenophobic cake and eating it too. Commonly it is a sentiment
found with well-fed, stupid white men who also oppose things
like homosexual marriage, women's right to choose ANYTHING, funding
for the arts, NOT going to war and just plain brown people in general.
Ignorance comes from being lazy and fearful, and that pretty much sums
these debonair gentle-folk up pretty well. (Yes I realize I am stereo-typing
them and that is prejudiced. Had you ever met these people, you would
not give that much of a fuck about it either. Kind of like dropping rocks onto
shit. You never hear any of the Shit Rights activists complaining, because, well,
fuck that shit. Fuck bigots too. Anyone want to lambaste me for saying that?
Anyone here pro-KKK? Anyone painfully acquiescing my recalcitrant nature
of NAZI doctrine? The irony is not lost on me, I just have little conscience to
spare homo-sapien monstrocities.)
It's a common sentiment, about not outsourcing jobs to other countries
that translates into such ideas as NOT buying cars from Japan and NOT
getting technical support from India. (Japan makes great cars and
India gives great tech support. America does not make cars and we are
assholes on the phone. However I will say this, when a man from
Calcutta that has a accent so thick you can literally hear the curry he
ate last night...claims his name is "Mitch", I will always make fun of him.
The opportunity to mock my overly under-educated white ass for
trying to pronounce "Nadjueir" is too good to pass up. Never let a joke
like that slide. I'm dumb and for $0.50 an hour, you better let me know it, "Kevin".)
The funny thing about this was not just the woman, but the children on
the sign. The woman was VERY Asian, and the children on the sign were
Asian and Mexican. I had to look around to see if someone was going to
run out laughing at me, like I had fallen for a real-life practical
joke, BUT no...it was for real. Here was a post-middle-aged Asian
woman holding a sign about keeping American jobs in America for
children from Mexico. (I know! Just fucking awesome, right?)
Now that might not strike you all as funny, but let me give you a
quick run down on geographical socio-demographics. WE really don't
have it. At ALL. Pull out a globe (Google Maps for anyone who has
never actually seen the round. blue thing I am talking about) and look
up "Montana". It is nestled between Idaho and North Dakota. We have a
population of just under NOTHING. Not a fucking thing. Los Angeles and
New York each have about 50 times the population of our entire state,
and we are the fourth largest land-mass in the entire country.
(Alaska, Texas, California, Us...) Lots of land and no people, and out
of all the nobody that does live here, we are talking about a
population that is like 90% white. We are farmers and ranchers and
poor Republicans with something like the third lowest level of
education in the nation. (Fourty-Sevin of Phifty, Babie!!! Wooo!) We
are so far north the only immigrants we ever see are Canadians and
college students. The uni-bomber hid for only about 30 years from the
FBI, in PLAIN SIGHT in this state. That last part is not even a joke.
Most wanted criminal, 30 years, 20 miles from the capital building, no
bullshit.
We have wonderful mountains, lakes, countrysides, horse riding,
livestock and all aspects of the rugged nature you would expect from a
state whose name is Spanish for "It's a fucking mountain dude"...but two
things we don't have are Asians and Mexicans. We have seen them on TV
though. (That's a joke. We have like 15 of them.) It is not that we
are against those races at all, it is just that we have the climate only a
Viking could appreciate and are only 12,000 light years from places where
those particular genetic codes originate. No one usually makes it
here. The hit Denver, look north and usually just say, "Fuck that."
My town is right in the middle of the state and has about 60,000
people in it. The only reason people come here is to...uhm...come to
think of it...Why are we here? We have the cultural stew of your
average sock drawer. Once again, it is not because we are racist at
all, it is rather that no one who lives here has enough money to run
the fuck away from here.
Also, no one that lives here has ever lost a job to a foreigner since
cattle rustling went out of style about 200 years ago. So, baring that
in mind, here is a very Asian woman (who clearly got lost on her way
to some ACTUAL place) holding a sign slathered in USA patriotism
saying that we should keep all the American jobs where they belong:
for the Mexican children. I damn near stopped in the middle of the
intersection and lept out my car to kiss her. It was...beautiful. I
could taste the irony and it was fattening. I live my life solely for
the benefit of my daughter who is my light against the darkness of
reality, but it is moments like this that renew my faith in humanity.
I wanted to get a sign that said the same thing, only in Chinese and
stand there next to her just to complete the sardonic tapestry. People could
stop and say something heartfelt, like: "What the fuck?" and I could
reply with something like: "Don't ask me. I was born in Beijing. Kim
Li here is native though."
God bless America...and Asian women and Mexican children for keeping
our jobs...ya know...American.
P.S. I kept the tags for this post simple: HOT ASIAN WOMEN. Truly
though, she was just average.
episode(s) where the red-neck, over-all clad gomers are complaining
about how foreigners are taking their jobs. ("They took our jobs!" =
"They Derk Our DERR!") If you have not seen it, watch it and get a
humorous and accurate depiction of home-grown, Southern ignorance.
I saw a woman standing on the side of the road today with a
conspicuously American designed sign that read: "Keep our jobs in the
country!" Every few seconds she would spin it around and on the back
were pictures of children and some slogan about how we need to save
them for our children. The sentiment is not totally crazy and without
merit while at the same time being a bit blinkered. Sort of like having
your xenophobic cake and eating it too. Commonly it is a sentiment
found with well-fed, stupid white men who also oppose things
like homosexual marriage, women's right to choose ANYTHING, funding
for the arts, NOT going to war and just plain brown people in general.
Ignorance comes from being lazy and fearful, and that pretty much sums
these debonair gentle-folk up pretty well. (Yes I realize I am stereo-typing
them and that is prejudiced. Had you ever met these people, you would
not give that much of a fuck about it either. Kind of like dropping rocks onto
shit. You never hear any of the Shit Rights activists complaining, because, well,
fuck that shit. Fuck bigots too. Anyone want to lambaste me for saying that?
Anyone here pro-KKK? Anyone painfully acquiescing my recalcitrant nature
of NAZI doctrine? The irony is not lost on me, I just have little conscience to
spare homo-sapien monstrocities.)
It's a common sentiment, about not outsourcing jobs to other countries
that translates into such ideas as NOT buying cars from Japan and NOT
getting technical support from India. (Japan makes great cars and
India gives great tech support. America does not make cars and we are
assholes on the phone. However I will say this, when a man from
Calcutta that has a accent so thick you can literally hear the curry he
ate last night...claims his name is "Mitch", I will always make fun of him.
The opportunity to mock my overly under-educated white ass for
trying to pronounce "Nadjueir" is too good to pass up. Never let a joke
like that slide. I'm dumb and for $0.50 an hour, you better let me know it, "Kevin".)
The funny thing about this was not just the woman, but the children on
the sign. The woman was VERY Asian, and the children on the sign were
Asian and Mexican. I had to look around to see if someone was going to
run out laughing at me, like I had fallen for a real-life practical
joke, BUT no...it was for real. Here was a post-middle-aged Asian
woman holding a sign about keeping American jobs in America for
children from Mexico. (I know! Just fucking awesome, right?)
Now that might not strike you all as funny, but let me give you a
quick run down on geographical socio-demographics. WE really don't
have it. At ALL. Pull out a globe (Google Maps for anyone who has
never actually seen the round. blue thing I am talking about) and look
up "Montana". It is nestled between Idaho and North Dakota. We have a
population of just under NOTHING. Not a fucking thing. Los Angeles and
New York each have about 50 times the population of our entire state,
and we are the fourth largest land-mass in the entire country.
(Alaska, Texas, California, Us...) Lots of land and no people, and out
of all the nobody that does live here, we are talking about a
population that is like 90% white. We are farmers and ranchers and
poor Republicans with something like the third lowest level of
education in the nation. (Fourty-Sevin of Phifty, Babie!!! Wooo!) We
are so far north the only immigrants we ever see are Canadians and
college students. The uni-bomber hid for only about 30 years from the
FBI, in PLAIN SIGHT in this state. That last part is not even a joke.
Most wanted criminal, 30 years, 20 miles from the capital building, no
bullshit.
We have wonderful mountains, lakes, countrysides, horse riding,
livestock and all aspects of the rugged nature you would expect from a
state whose name is Spanish for "It's a fucking mountain dude"...but two
things we don't have are Asians and Mexicans. We have seen them on TV
though. (That's a joke. We have like 15 of them.) It is not that we
are against those races at all, it is just that we have the climate only a
Viking could appreciate and are only 12,000 light years from places where
those particular genetic codes originate. No one usually makes it
here. The hit Denver, look north and usually just say, "Fuck that."
My town is right in the middle of the state and has about 60,000
people in it. The only reason people come here is to...uhm...come to
think of it...Why are we here? We have the cultural stew of your
average sock drawer. Once again, it is not because we are racist at
all, it is rather that no one who lives here has enough money to run
the fuck away from here.
Also, no one that lives here has ever lost a job to a foreigner since
cattle rustling went out of style about 200 years ago. So, baring that
in mind, here is a very Asian woman (who clearly got lost on her way
to some ACTUAL place) holding a sign slathered in USA patriotism
saying that we should keep all the American jobs where they belong:
for the Mexican children. I damn near stopped in the middle of the
intersection and lept out my car to kiss her. It was...beautiful. I
could taste the irony and it was fattening. I live my life solely for
the benefit of my daughter who is my light against the darkness of
reality, but it is moments like this that renew my faith in humanity.
I wanted to get a sign that said the same thing, only in Chinese and
stand there next to her just to complete the sardonic tapestry. People could
stop and say something heartfelt, like: "What the fuck?" and I could
reply with something like: "Don't ask me. I was born in Beijing. Kim
Li here is native though."
God bless America...and Asian women and Mexican children for keeping
our jobs...ya know...American.
P.S. I kept the tags for this post simple: HOT ASIAN WOMEN. Truly
though, she was just average.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
You were a vicious bastard, and I'm glad you're dead
When I die, which I pray is horrific beyond description, I want it to
be happy. I want it to be fun. Everyone fantasizes about what their
funeral will be like: who will attend; how many exes will be there,
gnashing their teeth at the loss of the one they should not have let
go; the heart-felt engravings adorning their tombstone; the songs; et
cetera. My dreams have always been disturbing, and that's when they are at their best.
I would like to be dressed like a clown and have a spring loaded
casket, in the off chance I am not cremated, so that half way through
the 23rd Psalm it activates and sends my corpse flying out the coffin
into a wall with a sickening splat-like sound. If we could rig it so
my head pops off on impact and flies into the congregation, that would
be just touching. (Literally touching...my head...bouncing off people.
Good luck sleeping after my dead, clown-faced cranium comes flying at
you. That is the kind of image that even drugs can lend no respite.)
Or perhaps dress me up like Batman. Or polaroids of my closest friends
violating my corpse, littered around my body, so people HAVE to look
at them as they pay their respects. (I know it is sick. Don't look at
me like that, you judgemental bastards.) Or instead of a coffin, dress
me like a cowboy and strap me to a mechanical bull at the front of the
cathedral, and let the thing run all the way through the wake. I'd be
up there a-floppin and a-slappin around while my loved ones are trying
not to look and giggle. Or just keep it simple: Me, in a suit, face
down with a knife stuck in my back...maybe a little Bugs-Bunny-like
sign in one hand that says "Call 911!" (I really, REALLY like that last one.
Makes me laugh everytime.)
Also in the congregation, I want a few plants. Not like foliage
plants, but inmates from the local mental institution or shell-shock
wing of the VA hospital; and the older, and the senile-er, the better.
During my eulogy (Or eulogies, preferrably, mostly coming from the
more bat-shit attendees) they could howl shit out like "I just fucking
crapped in the dishwasher!" or "Yahtzee!" or "Don't touch slippery
frog penis!" (Which is good advice anyway you slice it)
or hopefully something even more crazy. Ooooh, and about
three people with violent tourettes. I mean it. Wheel those psychos
and nuts in by the bushell and let them go totally ape-testicles in
the joint. I want my survivors to be unable to maintain a respectable
morose. Get one of those monkeys in the little suits from the circus
and load him up with PCP and Viagra so he is leaping salaciously onto
people and jerking off like a 16 year-old Trekkie EVERYWHERE.
Just picture it. When one of the more Schizo in the audience screams
"I have monkey cum in my eye!" it really won't be so far beyond the
pale. In fact, that might be the most sensible thing at the whole
service.
Also the music. Everybody has a list of songs they want as their shell
is paraded out of the church, and it is always the same sad bullshit.
Something by Bach or Mozart or John Lennon or Skynyrd, something
easy listening, maybe some of the more radical people claim to want
"Highway to Hell". I also have a song list:
"Kill you" by Eminem for starters. (Just the thought of everyone
enjoying a moment of silence in respect for the dearly departed while
that crazy white boy hollars, "Bitch, Imma Kill You! You don't want to
fuck with me!"...it brings a tear to my eye. (HUGE fucking
smiley-face) )
I would also like that song they play at circuses, the "Dee dee deedle
eedle eee deedle dee" one. (When the flying clown flies out the
coffin, it would almost be poetry, especially if my body sticks to the
wall somehow. Old, dead clown dangling there, nuts screaming
obscenities, monkey cock like a blurry fury in the rafters, seltzer
water bottle glued in my hand. Who doesn't want to die like this?
Ya' know, with all the dignity and shit.)
And the coup de gras, get some really skanky strippers (And I mean
REAL skanky. Like the kind of women that have tattoos INSIDE their
vaginas) to come out and rub their crotches all over me to 2 Live
Crew's "Can a Nigga Get a Table Dance?" (Preacher: "And in honor to
the departed's wishes, I would like to welcome Porche and Mercedes to
the altar to rub stink and herpes all over the cadaver. He will be in
death how he was in life...just an awful, awful person.")
But, don't get me wrong I am not necessarily for all that slight humor
and grandstanding (SLIGHT HUMOR???). I am a man of the people, and
want to die for the people. Perhaps, just cremate me...ashes to ashes
and dust to dust. (If you don't take it out and use it, it's bound to
rust. (Sorry, got a little sidetracked.) ) Then take my ashes out to a
professional sports arena, during a big game, load it into a T-shirt
cannon and blast me onto everyone in the stands. At first, they would
be all, "What the fuck?" Then, as people start finding things like
jewelry and spitting out the ashes, it would dawn on them that it was
people and they would fucking lose it. Just rank pandemonium. Hell, I
would freak out if I were them.
My tombstone should read something like: "You are standing on my
groin" or "These maggots are ticklish" or "He's fucking sheep in Heaven now".
Life may be more than just a game, but death should ALWAYS be a joke,
and I want to make sure that the last laugh is on someone other than
me.
God bless America and cause I don't need romance, all I need to know
is...can a nigga get a table dance?
P.S. My tags for this one:
Death, Funeral, Dying, Love, Cremation, Heaven, Burial, Ashes, Herpes
be happy. I want it to be fun. Everyone fantasizes about what their
funeral will be like: who will attend; how many exes will be there,
gnashing their teeth at the loss of the one they should not have let
go; the heart-felt engravings adorning their tombstone; the songs; et
cetera. My dreams have always been disturbing, and that's when they are at their best.
I would like to be dressed like a clown and have a spring loaded
casket, in the off chance I am not cremated, so that half way through
the 23rd Psalm it activates and sends my corpse flying out the coffin
into a wall with a sickening splat-like sound. If we could rig it so
my head pops off on impact and flies into the congregation, that would
be just touching. (Literally touching...my head...bouncing off people.
Good luck sleeping after my dead, clown-faced cranium comes flying at
you. That is the kind of image that even drugs can lend no respite.)
Or perhaps dress me up like Batman. Or polaroids of my closest friends
violating my corpse, littered around my body, so people HAVE to look
at them as they pay their respects. (I know it is sick. Don't look at
me like that, you judgemental bastards.) Or instead of a coffin, dress
me like a cowboy and strap me to a mechanical bull at the front of the
cathedral, and let the thing run all the way through the wake. I'd be
up there a-floppin and a-slappin around while my loved ones are trying
not to look and giggle. Or just keep it simple: Me, in a suit, face
down with a knife stuck in my back...maybe a little Bugs-Bunny-like
sign in one hand that says "Call 911!" (I really, REALLY like that last one.
Makes me laugh everytime.)
Also in the congregation, I want a few plants. Not like foliage
plants, but inmates from the local mental institution or shell-shock
wing of the VA hospital; and the older, and the senile-er, the better.
During my eulogy (Or eulogies, preferrably, mostly coming from the
more bat-shit attendees) they could howl shit out like "I just fucking
crapped in the dishwasher!" or "Yahtzee!" or "Don't touch slippery
frog penis!" (Which is good advice anyway you slice it)
or hopefully something even more crazy. Ooooh, and about
three people with violent tourettes. I mean it. Wheel those psychos
and nuts in by the bushell and let them go totally ape-testicles in
the joint. I want my survivors to be unable to maintain a respectable
morose. Get one of those monkeys in the little suits from the circus
and load him up with PCP and Viagra so he is leaping salaciously onto
people and jerking off like a 16 year-old Trekkie EVERYWHERE.
Just picture it. When one of the more Schizo in the audience screams
"I have monkey cum in my eye!" it really won't be so far beyond the
pale. In fact, that might be the most sensible thing at the whole
service.
Also the music. Everybody has a list of songs they want as their shell
is paraded out of the church, and it is always the same sad bullshit.
Something by Bach or Mozart or John Lennon or Skynyrd, something
easy listening, maybe some of the more radical people claim to want
"Highway to Hell". I also have a song list:
"Kill you" by Eminem for starters. (Just the thought of everyone
enjoying a moment of silence in respect for the dearly departed while
that crazy white boy hollars, "Bitch, Imma Kill You! You don't want to
fuck with me!"...it brings a tear to my eye. (HUGE fucking
smiley-face) )
I would also like that song they play at circuses, the "Dee dee deedle
eedle eee deedle dee" one. (When the flying clown flies out the
coffin, it would almost be poetry, especially if my body sticks to the
wall somehow. Old, dead clown dangling there, nuts screaming
obscenities, monkey cock like a blurry fury in the rafters, seltzer
water bottle glued in my hand. Who doesn't want to die like this?
Ya' know, with all the dignity and shit.)
And the coup de gras, get some really skanky strippers (And I mean
REAL skanky. Like the kind of women that have tattoos INSIDE their
vaginas) to come out and rub their crotches all over me to 2 Live
Crew's "Can a Nigga Get a Table Dance?" (Preacher: "And in honor to
the departed's wishes, I would like to welcome Porche and Mercedes to
the altar to rub stink and herpes all over the cadaver. He will be in
death how he was in life...just an awful, awful person.")
But, don't get me wrong I am not necessarily for all that slight humor
and grandstanding (SLIGHT HUMOR???). I am a man of the people, and
want to die for the people. Perhaps, just cremate me...ashes to ashes
and dust to dust. (If you don't take it out and use it, it's bound to
rust. (Sorry, got a little sidetracked.) ) Then take my ashes out to a
professional sports arena, during a big game, load it into a T-shirt
cannon and blast me onto everyone in the stands. At first, they would
be all, "What the fuck?" Then, as people start finding things like
jewelry and spitting out the ashes, it would dawn on them that it was
people and they would fucking lose it. Just rank pandemonium. Hell, I
would freak out if I were them.
My tombstone should read something like: "You are standing on my
groin" or "These maggots are ticklish" or "He's fucking sheep in Heaven now".
Life may be more than just a game, but death should ALWAYS be a joke,
and I want to make sure that the last laugh is on someone other than
me.
God bless America and cause I don't need romance, all I need to know
is...can a nigga get a table dance?
P.S. My tags for this one:
Death, Funeral, Dying, Love, Cremation, Heaven, Burial, Ashes, Herpes
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger!
Buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger!
I was so happy when I heard the news. I laughed and thanked God for
the glorious day. It was poetry made of life. My very soul was so
insulted that all I can say is: IT is truly a thing of divine
provenance, of Godly origin, a modern sacrament, a fucking miracle.
***Let me explain. We have two Christian talk radio stations here,
KLOV and YNOP (Your Network Of Praise) and I love to listen to them
regularly for 3 reasons:
• The sermons are, from time to time, not that bad. It can be soul
affirming and brilliant, however never from the Caucasian preachers.
Only the “minority” clergy really give good Bible. Don’t know why all
them “chalkies” suck ass, but there you go.
• The crazy, blinkered, Philistine, bullshit politics. It is important
with the freedom of speech to listen to the brain-garbage that would
never come from one’s own mouth so you can get a “holy-fucking-shit”
barometer working to gauge the climate of insanity in the rest of the
world. Also it is comforting to know where these people are, so when
the revolution comes, you can kill them FIRST. Black power.
• To remind us all that Christian music blows…OOOH so much. I am not
much of an advocate for Satan, but when it comes to music, stick with he of
the cloven hooves. That shit would make Moses pray for death. Abraham
sacrifice himself. Muhammad would leap from the mountain. Shiva would destroy her ears. Buddha would nuke Tibet…and so on.
***Well, today the universe smiled upon me and God delivered some
grade-a bull-shit-ery that reminded me that above all the difficulties
in life, every day is beautiful. Today, both stations had
simultaneous, rival pledge drives going on. Oh holy night, the
divinity of it. KLOV wanted money to get the Bible-book-on-tape sent
to soldiers in Afghanistan and YNOP wanted to send Bibles written in
Farsi to Iran. Now both seem like marginally noble-enough causes for
evangelicals: Spread the word to those that want it. That is not what
made it so rich though. It was their methodology and lies. I have seen
barbarous bastardizations of my chosen Lord and savior before, but no
whoring ever brought such offense and joy to my heart as this.
***Both stations admitted, while I was flipping back and forth between
them, that they already had the Farsic Bibles and the Audio Gospels
made, and had missionaries in place to distribute them. Why then the
pledge drives? I know what you are thinking: Postage. Somebody has to
pay for the postage. Seems logical. Well YNOP wanted 200 grand and
KLOV wanted 500 grand. Let’s assume the Bible in paper or cassette
form weighed about 250 pounds apiece, I still think that is bullshit.
They just wanted money and came up with a scapegoat excuse to lure
fools away from their cash, something that idiot Christians could not
refuse, like say converting Muslims or supporting our troops in the
killing of Muslims. So many cynical verbal sorties flood to my mind
right now, I think I just pissed in someone else’s pants. It virtually
is maddening how much this tyrannical grade hypocrisy and prostitution
of my chosen religion thrills me. I actually giggled, I was so touched
by this; So offensive, so blatantly vile, so greed fueled at the
expense of something so noble and pure, (Really, like so many things
in “Christianity”. If He only knew the shit we do in his name…wow…) it
was Homerically villainous and stupid, I literally prayed to God and
thanked Her for sending me such great…just great fuck-tards.
***They actually claimed on both stations that they NEEDED the money
to do blah blah blah, and then right on the tails of that (I am not
making this up, I couldn’t make this up, I am not half the genius it
takes to make this crap up) said that they already had everything they
needed for distribution. They did. They said, “We NEED your money so
we can tell the X-Men about Jesus Christ…but we don’t need the money.
But still…we need the money.” I actually looked at my radio, as if it
would look back at me and do something like shrug or spit in my face.
I like to think I have a lot of balls and am full of shit, but I
testify now before you, I was more than humbled. I was
hum-bum-dum-bled. I was jealous. I was in awe. The balls of these
people…kudos. They lied right to me, and then told me they lied to me
and then continued to lie right to me. It was beautiful.
***I wish they would have been even more incredulous and just came
right out and said shit like: “Now, today, we need you to reach down
into your hearts and feel the love of the Lord. We need you to feel
that love wrap around you, all over you, and down into your pants,
around your dicks and snatches and up the crack in your ass to your
fat juicy wallets, and feel the love of the Lord take out all the
green paper you have. Can you feel it, Becky? I can feel it. Now pick
up the fucking phone and shove all that cash into the receiver, just
shove it right in there, it’s ok. God has given us so much, She made
the Earth and all life; She made the Universe and all its mystery; She
invented the periodic table of elements and ALL physics, but She needs
YOUR money. The Almighty needs you to take the food out of your
family’s mouth, take it back to the store, fuck paying on the house
this month, and buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger. Can you do that? Can
you buy Him a double cheeseburger with bacon? He died for your sins
2000 years ago, and his new truck needs a new sound system! Can you
get him that Alpine deck with the wireless MP3 function? Can you do
that? Heaven needs a new coat of paint! God can not just use all Her
magic and whip this shit up, damn it! Jesus Christ, our Lord and
Savior, Master of all time and space, NEEDS to spell his name in
diamonds across his gold-plated fucking teeth! Can you bling up the
Lord’s grill? Buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger, you greedy fuck!”
***The man MC on KLOV also said this: (I am paraphrasing, as I was
laughing so much I missed a few words) “(To female counterpart) Becky,
I just had a vision from Jesus, just now in the studio, while you were
talking. Jesus came to me and He said, to have faith…we will make
$15,000 in the next five minutes. I just heard that in my soul.”
Becky’s reply: “Wow, Chris. That is just…just fantastic.”
You heard it folks, Jesus took time out of His schedule of helping
starving and sick people, and appearing on bread in Mexico to people
who smoke marijuana, to tell this fuck-wad that he need not worry…the
Lord will change the hearts of thousands (hmmm, dozens really) of
people WHO ALREADY LISTEN TO THEIR RETARDED RADIO STATION
(people JUST LIKE ME), and have them make SPECIFICALLY $15,000 in
300 seconds. Praise be to God, and Her accountant. It’s a fucking miracle!
I can not comment further on this.
***They also put a time limit on their drive, as if they would
actually stop taking your (I don’t want to say “hard-earned money”,
because anybody…ANYBODY could lie into a microphone and act like they
were born from the ass of a monkey for cash…so I will not say
“hard-earned money” when referring to the money that real human beings
sent to them, instead I will distinguish it from the kind of money
these crack-head Christians “earn” by calling it…) “ACTUALLY-earned
money” when the time runs out. After 6pm, Central, shove your tax-free
cash up your ass, true believer! KLOV won’t touch that filth! Don’t
insult the sacred name of KLOV just because you couldn’t make it to
the phone in the arbitrary and imaginary time frame we just made up,
just now! Hell awaits thee in the name of tardiness, donator!
Blasphemies abound by the holy decree of Rick, the almighty station
manager! Don’t make the glorious Rick tap his wristwatch, heathen
scum! Child of 5-minutes-past, and probably Satan, your money is a
stain on the Stairway to heaven we are trying to purchase here today
and we will have none of it! (Yeah, you see what I am getting at.)
Well, lo and behold, come 6pm Central, another miracle happened.
Chris, the voice of the Lord, did something so amazing, so incredible,
so breath-takingly sanctimonious…he extended the time frame. And, yea
did the gates of the Heaven’s part and betwixt which did stream a
golden pyre of the most illuminating light, and it pierced the stone
heart of the lone jack-off that is taking your kid’s college tuition,
and he was moved to take even more. So endeth the lesson of the
jack-off.
***There were too many moments to relay to you, my child, that brought
such ironic and masochistic joy to myself, a sound man of God and
Science, (For the record, Science is a whore. Just wanted to say
that for a while now.) BUT, there is but one more that I must impart
to ye. Bow your heads. They were giving shout-outs to anyone kicking
$40 or more to the cause of saving the souls or preserving the souls
of those already saved currently being shot at in someone else’s
shitty fucking country. I guess if you donate less than $40 God will
smite you with all the fury of Heaven’s forces…or not, but
CERTAINLY…no shout-out. They thanked some lady from Plentywood for her
donation of $45 and the female (Again, I could not fabricate this. I
WISH I could fabricate shit like this.) actually howled like a
wolf…LOUDLY. It was one of those moments where it is so awesome that
one can not even move. I just stared ahead, expressionless. (As if God
Herself would suddenly pop out in front of me with Moses and Jesus and
Jimi Hendrix and they would all be laughing and pointing at me, Jimi
holding a cam-corder, and say something like “You should have seen the
look on your face! We got you good, motherfucker! Oh, fucking awesome!
Hoooooooowl! HA HA HA HA! Wooh! Sigh, really though, you died about 15
minutes ago. Mo just had to fuck you before we spilled it. Aaaah,
good times.”) That cock-sucker actually howled like a wolf, during a
pledge drive… for $45… in the name of God’s only child. Hallelujah! He
is risen! For juuuuuuuuuust under $50! Ooooooooooooow! Now bark like a
dog for the Holy Spirit, bitch! Do it, you brainless cunts! (Side
note, if it sounds like I am far too enthusiastic about this, it is
because I am. Best thing to happen to me in the last year, EASILY.)
***Thank you, for the vulgar display of moron-esticles, Lord. You are truly the
greatest bullshitter, the finest jokester, the one true fuck-tard
maker in the universe, and I praise your glory and brilliance as much
as I am able. Your inbred, radio-stationed, disfigured, brainless
dog-fuckers are my joy, O Lord. Thanks be to you.
***As always, my children, God Bless America and in the name of KLOV
and YNOP get down on the fucking ground and give up all the cash and
all the jewelry. Anybody moves and we will slash your fucking throats.
Jesus needs a motherfucking cheeseburger.
I was so happy when I heard the news. I laughed and thanked God for
the glorious day. It was poetry made of life. My very soul was so
insulted that all I can say is: IT is truly a thing of divine
provenance, of Godly origin, a modern sacrament, a fucking miracle.
***Let me explain. We have two Christian talk radio stations here,
KLOV and YNOP (Your Network Of Praise) and I love to listen to them
regularly for 3 reasons:
• The sermons are, from time to time, not that bad. It can be soul
affirming and brilliant, however never from the Caucasian preachers.
Only the “minority” clergy really give good Bible. Don’t know why all
them “chalkies” suck ass, but there you go.
• The crazy, blinkered, Philistine, bullshit politics. It is important
with the freedom of speech to listen to the brain-garbage that would
never come from one’s own mouth so you can get a “holy-fucking-shit”
barometer working to gauge the climate of insanity in the rest of the
world. Also it is comforting to know where these people are, so when
the revolution comes, you can kill them FIRST. Black power.
• To remind us all that Christian music blows…OOOH so much. I am not
much of an advocate for Satan, but when it comes to music, stick with he of
the cloven hooves. That shit would make Moses pray for death. Abraham
sacrifice himself. Muhammad would leap from the mountain. Shiva would destroy her ears. Buddha would nuke Tibet…and so on.
***Well, today the universe smiled upon me and God delivered some
grade-a bull-shit-ery that reminded me that above all the difficulties
in life, every day is beautiful. Today, both stations had
simultaneous, rival pledge drives going on. Oh holy night, the
divinity of it. KLOV wanted money to get the Bible-book-on-tape sent
to soldiers in Afghanistan and YNOP wanted to send Bibles written in
Farsi to Iran. Now both seem like marginally noble-enough causes for
evangelicals: Spread the word to those that want it. That is not what
made it so rich though. It was their methodology and lies. I have seen
barbarous bastardizations of my chosen Lord and savior before, but no
whoring ever brought such offense and joy to my heart as this.
***Both stations admitted, while I was flipping back and forth between
them, that they already had the Farsic Bibles and the Audio Gospels
made, and had missionaries in place to distribute them. Why then the
pledge drives? I know what you are thinking: Postage. Somebody has to
pay for the postage. Seems logical. Well YNOP wanted 200 grand and
KLOV wanted 500 grand. Let’s assume the Bible in paper or cassette
form weighed about 250 pounds apiece, I still think that is bullshit.
They just wanted money and came up with a scapegoat excuse to lure
fools away from their cash, something that idiot Christians could not
refuse, like say converting Muslims or supporting our troops in the
killing of Muslims. So many cynical verbal sorties flood to my mind
right now, I think I just pissed in someone else’s pants. It virtually
is maddening how much this tyrannical grade hypocrisy and prostitution
of my chosen religion thrills me. I actually giggled, I was so touched
by this; So offensive, so blatantly vile, so greed fueled at the
expense of something so noble and pure, (Really, like so many things
in “Christianity”. If He only knew the shit we do in his name…wow…) it
was Homerically villainous and stupid, I literally prayed to God and
thanked Her for sending me such great…just great fuck-tards.
***They actually claimed on both stations that they NEEDED the money
to do blah blah blah, and then right on the tails of that (I am not
making this up, I couldn’t make this up, I am not half the genius it
takes to make this crap up) said that they already had everything they
needed for distribution. They did. They said, “We NEED your money so
we can tell the X-Men about Jesus Christ…but we don’t need the money.
But still…we need the money.” I actually looked at my radio, as if it
would look back at me and do something like shrug or spit in my face.
I like to think I have a lot of balls and am full of shit, but I
testify now before you, I was more than humbled. I was
hum-bum-dum-bled. I was jealous. I was in awe. The balls of these
people…kudos. They lied right to me, and then told me they lied to me
and then continued to lie right to me. It was beautiful.
***I wish they would have been even more incredulous and just came
right out and said shit like: “Now, today, we need you to reach down
into your hearts and feel the love of the Lord. We need you to feel
that love wrap around you, all over you, and down into your pants,
around your dicks and snatches and up the crack in your ass to your
fat juicy wallets, and feel the love of the Lord take out all the
green paper you have. Can you feel it, Becky? I can feel it. Now pick
up the fucking phone and shove all that cash into the receiver, just
shove it right in there, it’s ok. God has given us so much, She made
the Earth and all life; She made the Universe and all its mystery; She
invented the periodic table of elements and ALL physics, but She needs
YOUR money. The Almighty needs you to take the food out of your
family’s mouth, take it back to the store, fuck paying on the house
this month, and buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger. Can you do that? Can
you buy Him a double cheeseburger with bacon? He died for your sins
2000 years ago, and his new truck needs a new sound system! Can you
get him that Alpine deck with the wireless MP3 function? Can you do
that? Heaven needs a new coat of paint! God can not just use all Her
magic and whip this shit up, damn it! Jesus Christ, our Lord and
Savior, Master of all time and space, NEEDS to spell his name in
diamonds across his gold-plated fucking teeth! Can you bling up the
Lord’s grill? Buy Jesus a fucking cheeseburger, you greedy fuck!”
***The man MC on KLOV also said this: (I am paraphrasing, as I was
laughing so much I missed a few words) “(To female counterpart) Becky,
I just had a vision from Jesus, just now in the studio, while you were
talking. Jesus came to me and He said, to have faith…we will make
$15,000 in the next five minutes. I just heard that in my soul.”
Becky’s reply: “Wow, Chris. That is just…just fantastic.”
You heard it folks, Jesus took time out of His schedule of helping
starving and sick people, and appearing on bread in Mexico to people
who smoke marijuana, to tell this fuck-wad that he need not worry…the
Lord will change the hearts of thousands (hmmm, dozens really) of
people WHO ALREADY LISTEN TO THEIR RETARDED RADIO STATION
(people JUST LIKE ME), and have them make SPECIFICALLY $15,000 in
300 seconds. Praise be to God, and Her accountant. It’s a fucking miracle!
I can not comment further on this.
***They also put a time limit on their drive, as if they would
actually stop taking your (I don’t want to say “hard-earned money”,
because anybody…ANYBODY could lie into a microphone and act like they
were born from the ass of a monkey for cash…so I will not say
“hard-earned money” when referring to the money that real human beings
sent to them, instead I will distinguish it from the kind of money
these crack-head Christians “earn” by calling it…) “ACTUALLY-earned
money” when the time runs out. After 6pm, Central, shove your tax-free
cash up your ass, true believer! KLOV won’t touch that filth! Don’t
insult the sacred name of KLOV just because you couldn’t make it to
the phone in the arbitrary and imaginary time frame we just made up,
just now! Hell awaits thee in the name of tardiness, donator!
Blasphemies abound by the holy decree of Rick, the almighty station
manager! Don’t make the glorious Rick tap his wristwatch, heathen
scum! Child of 5-minutes-past, and probably Satan, your money is a
stain on the Stairway to heaven we are trying to purchase here today
and we will have none of it! (Yeah, you see what I am getting at.)
Well, lo and behold, come 6pm Central, another miracle happened.
Chris, the voice of the Lord, did something so amazing, so incredible,
so breath-takingly sanctimonious…he extended the time frame. And, yea
did the gates of the Heaven’s part and betwixt which did stream a
golden pyre of the most illuminating light, and it pierced the stone
heart of the lone jack-off that is taking your kid’s college tuition,
and he was moved to take even more. So endeth the lesson of the
jack-off.
***There were too many moments to relay to you, my child, that brought
such ironic and masochistic joy to myself, a sound man of God and
Science, (For the record, Science is a whore. Just wanted to say
that for a while now.) BUT, there is but one more that I must impart
to ye. Bow your heads. They were giving shout-outs to anyone kicking
$40 or more to the cause of saving the souls or preserving the souls
of those already saved currently being shot at in someone else’s
shitty fucking country. I guess if you donate less than $40 God will
smite you with all the fury of Heaven’s forces…or not, but
CERTAINLY…no shout-out. They thanked some lady from Plentywood for her
donation of $45 and the female (Again, I could not fabricate this. I
WISH I could fabricate shit like this.) actually howled like a
wolf…LOUDLY. It was one of those moments where it is so awesome that
one can not even move. I just stared ahead, expressionless. (As if God
Herself would suddenly pop out in front of me with Moses and Jesus and
Jimi Hendrix and they would all be laughing and pointing at me, Jimi
holding a cam-corder, and say something like “You should have seen the
look on your face! We got you good, motherfucker! Oh, fucking awesome!
Hoooooooowl! HA HA HA HA! Wooh! Sigh, really though, you died about 15
minutes ago. Mo just had to fuck you before we spilled it. Aaaah,
good times.”) That cock-sucker actually howled like a wolf, during a
pledge drive… for $45… in the name of God’s only child. Hallelujah! He
is risen! For juuuuuuuuuust under $50! Ooooooooooooow! Now bark like a
dog for the Holy Spirit, bitch! Do it, you brainless cunts! (Side
note, if it sounds like I am far too enthusiastic about this, it is
because I am. Best thing to happen to me in the last year, EASILY.)
***Thank you, for the vulgar display of moron-esticles, Lord. You are truly the
greatest bullshitter, the finest jokester, the one true fuck-tard
maker in the universe, and I praise your glory and brilliance as much
as I am able. Your inbred, radio-stationed, disfigured, brainless
dog-fuckers are my joy, O Lord. Thanks be to you.
***As always, my children, God Bless America and in the name of KLOV
and YNOP get down on the fucking ground and give up all the cash and
all the jewelry. Anybody moves and we will slash your fucking throats.
Jesus needs a motherfucking cheeseburger.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
We can create oceans
I was curious, as I can be from time to time, about the number of seas on Earth. The International Hydrogeographical Organization (or Water Dorks, as is more common parlance) gives the number just North of 120 (124 by rumor). It is also difficult to define as the definition of such a thing is quagmirish in nature. (Yes I know "quagmirish" is not a word. I was truncating it and deriving the meaning of an adjective pointing in the direction of "something which is deducted from an idea quagmire-like in nature; Tar-baby-esque." So really this has devolved into a jousting match of pretentiousness between myself and the reader, but in the end the fact that I took the time to write this and they (YOU) took the time to read it really points to the apodictic fact that neither of us has any legs from which to stand with condescension, considering what a monumental waste of time was spent creating and understanding this bullshit. Life is short and we are all idiots.)
The definition of a sea is any salient body of water that is connected to an ocean OR NOT. Yeah, really. "OR NOT". Soooooo, say I fill up my bathtub with water, does that become the Great United American Sea Of Northern My House? Perhaps the Southern Sea of I can't Believe I Am Getting Away With This Kind Of Fuckery? Really, the definition is that loose. A cup of coffee could be qualified as a sea, The Great Brown Sea of Caffeinated...aw fuck it. You see what I am getting at. By their definition, a sea could be the puddle of piss you leave outside the bar, especially but not necessarily if is leads to an ocean. For the record, if I pulled this grade of shenanigans out in committee, I would be decried as a loony and pelted with fruit. These assholes do it and get funding. That alone is a modern miracle.
So there are a billion seas in the world. Fine. Sure. What caught my eye is that someone, like me, was curious and posted the question on Wiki-answers for the number of seas and the most common response was "7". Seven...one more than six. Ya' know, like, "sail the seven seas". If that answer came from a fifth grader, I would want that kid tested. Seven Seas in the world. It certainly has a je ne sais quoi of monumental proportions. Holy Moses shit, I can not even think of a way to belittle that answer more than the merit of the answer itself already did. Seven Seas...holy fuck-tarded, Batman. It is also true that pigs live in stick houses and beanstalks grow tall enough to create castle incursions where geese crap gold. Comic books are somehow still fake though. Que Lastima!
Another thing that caught my eye was the number of Oceans. There are, and always have been 4 Oceans: Pacific, Atlantic, Arctic and Indian. I learned this in the first grade, just like there are seven continents. 7 Continents (and Seas apparently) and 4 Oceans. Right? Wrong. There are 5 Oceans. (Insert double-take...now.) No shit. In the year 2000, the IHO identified that body of water surrounding Antarctica (a continent recognized for like EVER) as the Southern Ocean. So, to recap there are people who think that there are only seven seas in the world because of a fucking nursery rhyme and an apparent disturbingly fierce lack of globes and we have all been wrong about the number of oceans in our world, up until ten years ago. Are these the same cock polishers that said Pluto was no longer a planet? Different names for organizations, but the same 12 nerds just making shit up when the funding goes dry. I can see it in my mind:
(12 guys with glasses sitting in a room around a mahogany table, smoke filling the air.)
Guy 1: "Pass the weed, man."
Guy 2: "(Coughing smoke)"
Guy 3: "Hey, where is all our money?"
Guys 4 - 12: "What???"
Guy 3: "Yeah, man. Like...our money from those people in, uhm, Washington and shit. It's gone."
Guy 1: "Wow. I remember that now! They said we were useless and didn't do anything."
Guy 2: "(Hitting the bong)"
Guy 7: "Dude, I know what to do. Let's invent an ocean. Ya know, like, a WHOLE ocean, man."
Guy 1: "How are we gonna do that?"
Guy 3: "Can we even do that?"
Guy 9: "Yeah! We are totally the IHO, dude. Who would know if we did?"
Guy 2: "(Coughing violently)"
Guy 7: "Alright, let's go to Washington and tell those guys...uhm...CONGRESS! Yeah, Congress, like 'Hey, fuckers. We found an ocean, now give us some money.' "
Guy 1: "Alright. I like this idea. But first, let me get totally lit. I can't face those dudes half stoned and shit."
Guy 11: "We will show them who doesn't do anything, man!"
Guy 2: "(Falls off chair, unconscious)"
Guy 3: "Shit, someone pick up our Chairman."
And that, my children, is how we discovered the Southern Ocean in the year 2000 Anno Domine. I would be fervently unsurprised if these were in point of fact the same smoke junkies that decided that we only have 8 planets in our solar system:
(12 guys with glasses sitting in a room around a mahogany table, smoke filling the air.)
Guy 1: "Man, fuck Pluto."
Illustrious is the truth and untarnishable by its virtue. We thrust immortally fierce away the indifference of the universe against the grain of our very existence, divining our purpose on this planet as in the tomes of history in the universe immemorable through the sheer force of will and sanctity of spirit. We face our fears, our adversities with abandon and the kindest of sacrifices in the hope, THE FAITH, that our reward on this Earth as in Heaven will be rended upon us with mercy, respect and above all a never admonishable proof of worth that we DESERVE the truth; that we EARNED the truth; the truth has ever belonged to us and it has merely come back home, our prodigal purpose of being. The truth will indeed set our spirits free. And that truth is nigh: Yea...fuck thee Pluto. We can create oceans.
The definition of a sea is any salient body of water that is connected to an ocean OR NOT. Yeah, really. "OR NOT". Soooooo, say I fill up my bathtub with water, does that become the Great United American Sea Of Northern My House? Perhaps the Southern Sea of I can't Believe I Am Getting Away With This Kind Of Fuckery? Really, the definition is that loose. A cup of coffee could be qualified as a sea, The Great Brown Sea of Caffeinated...aw fuck it. You see what I am getting at. By their definition, a sea could be the puddle of piss you leave outside the bar, especially but not necessarily if is leads to an ocean. For the record, if I pulled this grade of shenanigans out in committee, I would be decried as a loony and pelted with fruit. These assholes do it and get funding. That alone is a modern miracle.
So there are a billion seas in the world. Fine. Sure. What caught my eye is that someone, like me, was curious and posted the question on Wiki-answers for the number of seas and the most common response was "7". Seven...one more than six. Ya' know, like, "sail the seven seas". If that answer came from a fifth grader, I would want that kid tested. Seven Seas in the world. It certainly has a je ne sais quoi of monumental proportions. Holy Moses shit, I can not even think of a way to belittle that answer more than the merit of the answer itself already did. Seven Seas...holy fuck-tarded, Batman. It is also true that pigs live in stick houses and beanstalks grow tall enough to create castle incursions where geese crap gold. Comic books are somehow still fake though. Que Lastima!
Another thing that caught my eye was the number of Oceans. There are, and always have been 4 Oceans: Pacific, Atlantic, Arctic and Indian. I learned this in the first grade, just like there are seven continents. 7 Continents (and Seas apparently) and 4 Oceans. Right? Wrong. There are 5 Oceans. (Insert double-take...now.) No shit. In the year 2000, the IHO identified that body of water surrounding Antarctica (a continent recognized for like EVER) as the Southern Ocean. So, to recap there are people who think that there are only seven seas in the world because of a fucking nursery rhyme and an apparent disturbingly fierce lack of globes and we have all been wrong about the number of oceans in our world, up until ten years ago. Are these the same cock polishers that said Pluto was no longer a planet? Different names for organizations, but the same 12 nerds just making shit up when the funding goes dry. I can see it in my mind:
(12 guys with glasses sitting in a room around a mahogany table, smoke filling the air.)
Guy 1: "Pass the weed, man."
Guy 2: "(Coughing smoke)"
Guy 3: "Hey, where is all our money?"
Guys 4 - 12: "What???"
Guy 3: "Yeah, man. Like...our money from those people in, uhm, Washington and shit. It's gone."
Guy 1: "Wow. I remember that now! They said we were useless and didn't do anything."
Guy 2: "(Hitting the bong)"
Guy 7: "Dude, I know what to do. Let's invent an ocean. Ya know, like, a WHOLE ocean, man."
Guy 1: "How are we gonna do that?"
Guy 3: "Can we even do that?"
Guy 9: "Yeah! We are totally the IHO, dude. Who would know if we did?"
Guy 2: "(Coughing violently)"
Guy 7: "Alright, let's go to Washington and tell those guys...uhm...CONGRESS! Yeah, Congress, like 'Hey, fuckers. We found an ocean, now give us some money.' "
Guy 1: "Alright. I like this idea. But first, let me get totally lit. I can't face those dudes half stoned and shit."
Guy 11: "We will show them who doesn't do anything, man!"
Guy 2: "(Falls off chair, unconscious)"
Guy 3: "Shit, someone pick up our Chairman."
And that, my children, is how we discovered the Southern Ocean in the year 2000 Anno Domine. I would be fervently unsurprised if these were in point of fact the same smoke junkies that decided that we only have 8 planets in our solar system:
(12 guys with glasses sitting in a room around a mahogany table, smoke filling the air.)
Guy 1: "Man, fuck Pluto."
Illustrious is the truth and untarnishable by its virtue. We thrust immortally fierce away the indifference of the universe against the grain of our very existence, divining our purpose on this planet as in the tomes of history in the universe immemorable through the sheer force of will and sanctity of spirit. We face our fears, our adversities with abandon and the kindest of sacrifices in the hope, THE FAITH, that our reward on this Earth as in Heaven will be rended upon us with mercy, respect and above all a never admonishable proof of worth that we DESERVE the truth; that we EARNED the truth; the truth has ever belonged to us and it has merely come back home, our prodigal purpose of being. The truth will indeed set our spirits free. And that truth is nigh: Yea...fuck thee Pluto. We can create oceans.
Famous speaches, by Don King
Excerpt from Jon Fitzgerald Kennedy's "Address to the Greater Houston Ministerial Association"
The part of John will be played by Don King.
"Reverend Meza, Reverend Reck, I'm gratefulmented like heck for your generous invitation and progentrification to state my views.
While the so-called religiousness issue is necessarily and propertarily the chief topic here tonight, I want to emphasizify from the outset that I believe-ificate that we have far more critical issues of misuse in the 1960 campaign; the spread of Communistilized influence, until it now festers only 90 miles from the coast of Florida -- the humiliating treatmentification of our President and Vice President by those who no longer respect our power -- the hungrified children I saw in West Virginia, the old-imifitricalizated people who cannot pay their doctors bills, the families forced to give up their farms -- an America with too many slums, too many bums, with too few schools, too many fools, and too late to the moon, and ragaboon and outer space, in your face. These are the pro-real-ramifitrated issues which should be decide-ificatied this campaign. And they are not religious issues -- for war and hunger and Felix Unger, ignorance and despair and car repair know no religious barrier-ticifation or mass productilifizication in this nation. Bacon." ~ John Fitzgerald Kennedy as played by Don King
The part of John will be played by Don King.
"Reverend Meza, Reverend Reck, I'm gratefulmented like heck for your generous invitation and progentrification to state my views.
While the so-called religiousness issue is necessarily and propertarily the chief topic here tonight, I want to emphasizify from the outset that I believe-ificate that we have far more critical issues of misuse in the 1960 campaign; the spread of Communistilized influence, until it now festers only 90 miles from the coast of Florida -- the humiliating treatmentification of our President and Vice President by those who no longer respect our power -- the hungrified children I saw in West Virginia, the old-imifitricalizated people who cannot pay their doctors bills, the families forced to give up their farms -- an America with too many slums, too many bums, with too few schools, too many fools, and too late to the moon, and ragaboon and outer space, in your face. These are the pro-real-ramifitrated issues which should be decide-ificatied this campaign. And they are not religious issues -- for war and hunger and Felix Unger, ignorance and despair and car repair know no religious barrier-ticifation or mass productilifizication in this nation. Bacon." ~ John Fitzgerald Kennedy as played by Don King
Friday, November 19, 2010
I hate colored ribbons (From old site)
I would like to apologize in advance for the things I am about to say.
(Make note that I am still going to say them, which negates the
essence of the apology only completely. I mean, really. If someone
apologizes with any sincerity, what they are saying is that the regret
they feel will prohibit them from performing said offense ever again
through shame on their very soul. Remorse has thus out-weighed any
pleasure derived from the actionable in such a way as to cause
contrition to the point of forbidding. By apologizing before doing the
thing fully intended on doing, one is simply being a dick. Which is
what I am doing...being a dick. But if the shoe fits...)
I really do not mean to point fingers or offend terribly, or maybe I
do. I don't know. My conscience tells me that I don't actually give a
fuck, like I got a pocket full of fucks, but won't give one. (Thank
you Chris Rock.) However, I would like to share something with you,
whoever you are, that pisses me off. (Like a condom on the ceiling:
pissed off.) I will try to keep this in the realm of brevity, but any
of you who know me know that is a lie, like my former apology and when
I tell my ex-girlfriends I will see them later. (Yeah, not if I see
them first.)
Pussification: actions or beliefs through elements which were at one
time stronger and more reliable are weakened, softened or other ways
made debilitated through emotional means such as fear, insecurity,
emotional projection or other ways illogical means. Eg: "He used to
race cars, but after the crash, he's been pussified and wants all cars
that drive over 20 miles per hour to be banned."
I derive this from the slang term commonly used by men to refer to
other men, whom they want to do something obviously stupid and
dangerous at the sake of all common sense. (Side note, I like to think
men are smart enough to tell right from wrong, safe from deadly,
should from should not, but if you ever want them to do something that
crosses that thin red line, just call him a pussy and watch that
Neanderthal jump off a bridge. Lost many good men at the end of that
word.)
I mean this in no way as a slight towards women or vagina. Ask anyone
who knows me and they will tell you I am a fervent champion of women
and women's rights, especially where sex with them comes into play. I
love women. Good women, bad women, all women. Love me some women. Not
trying to make too fine a point on the subject, but if you have never
made love to a woman, you are really missing out. They are beautiful,
soft, warm, wet, delicious, incredible to the point that I am at a
loss for words about it. 99% of the time when I say the word "pussy" I
am not referring to a cat or a scared male, I'm talking about the
greatest body part since the medulla oblongata. Again not negative,
huge fan of the organ and the rest of the beautiful people that house
it.
No, I am talking about the tempering of the human spirit by way of
pussification. It is making this world (especially the United States)
dumber, fatter and lazier and I am genuinely upset.
As I have said progress demands sacrifice. Sympathy is a crutch for
people to feel better about being mired in crapulence, and not change.
Facebook was a good idea until every person used it to garner
agreements on why their breakfast didn't taste good or they wasted two
hours watching a shitty film. Personal accountability is of utmost
importance to self-improvement and is being beaten to death with the
soft, padded pillows of accommodation. Help is one thing, but feeling
sorry for yourself nets nothing positive. It's the old axiom of "feed
a man a fish and he will eat for a day, teach a man how to get off his
ass and go out and get his own damn fish and he will feed a fucking
nation", or something like that.
Personal accountability, not making excuses but rather making strides
to eradicate failure. Marconi invented the radio and it took him
something like twenty years to accomplish. What if his wife had gone
to him after a few days and told him, that he was just fine without
solving that mean old radio problem? (I know that is not true, but I
am using it to make a point, so let's just assume that happened. He
and Puff the Magic Dragon invented the radio in a cave with some tin
cans and a shoelace.) Monkeys died so that Yuri Gagarin could be the
first man in space, a great moment in human evolution. Great leaps of
faith require great courage and telling someone it is not their fault
because they are fucking up only allows them to further fuck things
up. The greatest accomplishments in history have always come at the
tails of the greatest adversities. Difficulty requires ability to
overcome. Holding hands and singing Bob Dylan songs does not stop a
nuclear holocaust. Dismantling plutonium with your own two hands does
though.
Idealists make me cringe when they get their way, because in this
world when given a choice between taking the easy path to nominal
success or the hard path to glorious triumph, most will always choose
the easy choice. I am all for having the choice, what I am against is
the special interest groups that tell people that either choice is
equally good. Ross Perot was nuts, but he had a great quote: "When you
see a snake you don't appoint a committee to deal with snakes, you
kill the snake." It's the spirit of success, the triumph of the human
spirit and it is something all humanity can get behind to form a sense
of solidarity. America is not supposed to be the land of the lazy, and
the home of the
people-who-wanted-to-do-something-but-it-got-too-hard-so-we-invented-a-colored-ribbon-to-fight-cancer-instead.
Pick up a book, learn medicine, cure that fucking cancer, even if it
takes you 30 years to do it.
Brevity be damned. As you can tell, this is a rather sensitive subject
for me. I am against all forms of pussification as a general rule. I
think all people are capable and are doing the best they can with the
best they have, but if we settle for that, our best will never get
better. Our children will be as dumb as us and that frightens and
upsets me. Censorship, banning freedoms, illegalizing the word
"Christmas" because you don't want to offend those who don't celebrate
it is not addressing the issues at all. That is just pretending that
you are making a difference by living in the illusion that porn, guns
and Christmas don't even exist. If those things are that bad, do
something about it. Push a fucking button, you pussy. Pretty please
with sugar on top, nut the fuck up or shut the fuck up.
Even if you are wrong, make the necessary progress. Hell, the next
generation will know it is bullshit and make even more progress
repealing your stupid decisions anyway, but the point is that they
will make it; they will send that fucking monkey into space; they will
dismantle that fucking bomb; they will cure every fucking plague,
because they have the courage to pick their lazy asses up and drag the
rest of humanity into the next millennium because they know strength
comes from within and pussies go without.
Legalize everything and bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia!
...and as always, God bless America.
(P.S. Spell checker has a REAL issue with the word "pussification". I
was trying to find a segue for that somewhere in here. *Sigh* A
ranting lunatic can only dream. On a positive note, for the tags on
this blog here is what I listed: Pussy, Pussification, dick, porn,
fuck, condom, sex, ass, women, nut, hell, Alfredo Garcia. Now that is
hilarious to me as it is not TECHNICALLY false advertising as all
those words are in this posting, but the kind of audience that is
looking for that will be pretty sore with this I think. Serves you
right, you perverts. Let's all get together and make them a ribbon.)
(Make note that I am still going to say them, which negates the
essence of the apology only completely. I mean, really. If someone
apologizes with any sincerity, what they are saying is that the regret
they feel will prohibit them from performing said offense ever again
through shame on their very soul. Remorse has thus out-weighed any
pleasure derived from the actionable in such a way as to cause
contrition to the point of forbidding. By apologizing before doing the
thing fully intended on doing, one is simply being a dick. Which is
what I am doing...being a dick. But if the shoe fits...)
I really do not mean to point fingers or offend terribly, or maybe I
do. I don't know. My conscience tells me that I don't actually give a
fuck, like I got a pocket full of fucks, but won't give one. (Thank
you Chris Rock.) However, I would like to share something with you,
whoever you are, that pisses me off. (Like a condom on the ceiling:
pissed off.) I will try to keep this in the realm of brevity, but any
of you who know me know that is a lie, like my former apology and when
I tell my ex-girlfriends I will see them later. (Yeah, not if I see
them first.)
Pussification: actions or beliefs through elements which were at one
time stronger and more reliable are weakened, softened or other ways
made debilitated through emotional means such as fear, insecurity,
emotional projection or other ways illogical means. Eg: "He used to
race cars, but after the crash, he's been pussified and wants all cars
that drive over 20 miles per hour to be banned."
I derive this from the slang term commonly used by men to refer to
other men, whom they want to do something obviously stupid and
dangerous at the sake of all common sense. (Side note, I like to think
men are smart enough to tell right from wrong, safe from deadly,
should from should not, but if you ever want them to do something that
crosses that thin red line, just call him a pussy and watch that
Neanderthal jump off a bridge. Lost many good men at the end of that
word.)
I mean this in no way as a slight towards women or vagina. Ask anyone
who knows me and they will tell you I am a fervent champion of women
and women's rights, especially where sex with them comes into play. I
love women. Good women, bad women, all women. Love me some women. Not
trying to make too fine a point on the subject, but if you have never
made love to a woman, you are really missing out. They are beautiful,
soft, warm, wet, delicious, incredible to the point that I am at a
loss for words about it. 99% of the time when I say the word "pussy" I
am not referring to a cat or a scared male, I'm talking about the
greatest body part since the medulla oblongata. Again not negative,
huge fan of the organ and the rest of the beautiful people that house
it.
No, I am talking about the tempering of the human spirit by way of
pussification. It is making this world (especially the United States)
dumber, fatter and lazier and I am genuinely upset.
As I have said progress demands sacrifice. Sympathy is a crutch for
people to feel better about being mired in crapulence, and not change.
Facebook was a good idea until every person used it to garner
agreements on why their breakfast didn't taste good or they wasted two
hours watching a shitty film. Personal accountability is of utmost
importance to self-improvement and is being beaten to death with the
soft, padded pillows of accommodation. Help is one thing, but feeling
sorry for yourself nets nothing positive. It's the old axiom of "feed
a man a fish and he will eat for a day, teach a man how to get off his
ass and go out and get his own damn fish and he will feed a fucking
nation", or something like that.
Personal accountability, not making excuses but rather making strides
to eradicate failure. Marconi invented the radio and it took him
something like twenty years to accomplish. What if his wife had gone
to him after a few days and told him, that he was just fine without
solving that mean old radio problem? (I know that is not true, but I
am using it to make a point, so let's just assume that happened. He
and Puff the Magic Dragon invented the radio in a cave with some tin
cans and a shoelace.) Monkeys died so that Yuri Gagarin could be the
first man in space, a great moment in human evolution. Great leaps of
faith require great courage and telling someone it is not their fault
because they are fucking up only allows them to further fuck things
up. The greatest accomplishments in history have always come at the
tails of the greatest adversities. Difficulty requires ability to
overcome. Holding hands and singing Bob Dylan songs does not stop a
nuclear holocaust. Dismantling plutonium with your own two hands does
though.
Idealists make me cringe when they get their way, because in this
world when given a choice between taking the easy path to nominal
success or the hard path to glorious triumph, most will always choose
the easy choice. I am all for having the choice, what I am against is
the special interest groups that tell people that either choice is
equally good. Ross Perot was nuts, but he had a great quote: "When you
see a snake you don't appoint a committee to deal with snakes, you
kill the snake." It's the spirit of success, the triumph of the human
spirit and it is something all humanity can get behind to form a sense
of solidarity. America is not supposed to be the land of the lazy, and
the home of the
people-who-wanted-to-do-something-but-it-got-too-hard-so-we-invented-a-colored-ribbon-to-fight-cancer-instead.
Pick up a book, learn medicine, cure that fucking cancer, even if it
takes you 30 years to do it.
Brevity be damned. As you can tell, this is a rather sensitive subject
for me. I am against all forms of pussification as a general rule. I
think all people are capable and are doing the best they can with the
best they have, but if we settle for that, our best will never get
better. Our children will be as dumb as us and that frightens and
upsets me. Censorship, banning freedoms, illegalizing the word
"Christmas" because you don't want to offend those who don't celebrate
it is not addressing the issues at all. That is just pretending that
you are making a difference by living in the illusion that porn, guns
and Christmas don't even exist. If those things are that bad, do
something about it. Push a fucking button, you pussy. Pretty please
with sugar on top, nut the fuck up or shut the fuck up.
Even if you are wrong, make the necessary progress. Hell, the next
generation will know it is bullshit and make even more progress
repealing your stupid decisions anyway, but the point is that they
will make it; they will send that fucking monkey into space; they will
dismantle that fucking bomb; they will cure every fucking plague,
because they have the courage to pick their lazy asses up and drag the
rest of humanity into the next millennium because they know strength
comes from within and pussies go without.
Legalize everything and bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia!
...and as always, God bless America.
(P.S. Spell checker has a REAL issue with the word "pussification". I
was trying to find a segue for that somewhere in here. *Sigh* A
ranting lunatic can only dream. On a positive note, for the tags on
this blog here is what I listed: Pussy, Pussification, dick, porn,
fuck, condom, sex, ass, women, nut, hell, Alfredo Garcia. Now that is
hilarious to me as it is not TECHNICALLY false advertising as all
those words are in this posting, but the kind of audience that is
looking for that will be pretty sore with this I think. Serves you
right, you perverts. Let's all get together and make them a ribbon.)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
How to fuck an immigrant (Moved from old site)
Immigration is a hot issue. Everyone seems to always spew the same
line of bullshit. “Fix Immigration”. I am speaking of the U.S. as I am
not sure what the status of immigration is in other countries. Here it
is a highly politicized and touchy issue. Touchy like after a
ureteroscopy. (I know. I had one. Two things: One, kidney stones
really fucking suck. Really, really, really fucking suck. Unmercifully
blow-jobesque. Avoid if at all possible. Two, if you make a joke about
having a ureteroscopy, that just means that you have never had one. I
am a faithful, moral man (Ok, I TRY to be) but during the procedure,
if they had asked me to name all my family as members of the communist
party, I would have given them the addresses and social security
numbers as well. The general anesthetic did not do shit. To this day I
am terrified of urologists. I see one and my dick recedes into my body
like the head of a frightened turtle. If anyone ever asks you to relax
your prostate while holding a long, metal claw, you might want to
consider just fucking dying.)
People like to say the thing that sounds like the thing to say without
giving it any thought. (I mean how could it be lies if it is on TV
right? Hello?) That is fine, by the way. It makes me appear to be
smarter than they are without trying, which I am all for. I have a
fragile ego and brain damage, so anything that feeds the beast is all
good with me. I also like to piss off everyone on both sides of an
issue with one statement, and in the spirit of that…I just wanted to
clarify what I think, to add a voice to a very minority opinion on the
controversial subject: You are all fucking inbred. All of you who say
that you want to fix immigration are either lying or ignorant, take
your pick. (In the voice of a late night infomercial salesman) But
wait, there’s more!
In this country there is a “problem” with immigration. According to
“Americans” we have too many “immigrants” in our country, taking
“honest work” from “Americans” and soaking up the residuals of “our”
benefits, and polluting our “language” with their own. No joke, those
are the common complaints about it. Those three things: too many of
them, took our jobs, and no habla jibber-jabber, amigo. REALLY. (To
take the time to chastise these ideals and the people that cling to
them like Captain Dumb-Ass to the sinking HMS
Nuttier-than-squirrel-shit, almost feels like kicking a dead dog. I
have to be honest, I don’t even know what I am trying to prove here.
But I am a man, I require no reason to do a thing. Dear Dog God,
please forgive me and lend me thy nine iron. Lassie is goin’ pay.)
Uno: There are 307 Million people in the U.S. by recent estimates. The
Romans invented the census, and had they those types of numbers, I am
guessing they would have just spit-balled it and spent the rest of the
night in the orgy-torium. (I would have. “How many Israelites do we
have? Uhm, Fifty…million…and six…Oh yeah, we totally checked. Hey, who
wants their cock polished anonymously?”) So, 307 BIG plus change, and
that is probably under the actual amount, because of the number of
paranoid people who don’t answer the door or phone calls. (Dear
Cocaine, I miss you. Call me.) They estimate we have 11 million
illegal immigrants in the country, again probably lower than actual.
Anybody do the math? It is about 3%. Sounds like an epidemic to me.
That means for every ten people on the streets, 1/3 of 1 of them is
not from this country. Better grab a gun and begin shooting wildly
into crowds. Panic uncontrollably. I’m serious.
Second point on that, there is a problem with immigration that is
real. There is, and I can prove it. Ask a Native American, if you can
find one. You want to know why immigration is bad, find a Sioux or a
Cherokee or a Navajo Indian and ask their opinion of letting strange
people across your borders. They will probably tell you something
about the economy, right after the brutal murdering of their children
and forced relocation and, oh yeah, giving them blankets soaked with
small pox. That was hilarious. We killed the natives with malice and
unbridled efficiency because they had the land we wanted and they were
naked and they had funny gods, THEN we wrote a Bill of Rights for all
people that included Illegal Search and Seizure, Freedom of Expression
and Freedom of Religion. I couldn’t make this shit up. Immigration can
kill you, but apparently only if the immigrants are white. (Dear
Africa, help a brother out?) It makes the old shibboleth “Kill whitey”
sound like well-balanced domestic policy. Never trust a protestant.
Dos: They are taking our jobs. It’s true. They will steal your job, if
after college you want to pick strawberries in southern California for
25¢ an hour 13 hours a day with no overtime, retirement, sun-screen or
health insurance. Those greedy bastards. Will no amount of gold slate
their thirst? It would literally take you a thousand, million years to
pay back your school loans. Literally. (The real figure is more like
$5.25 per hour, or $8,900 some annually. But in California money, they
might as well be paying them with dreams.) If we did not have them and
had to pay real money for legal workers, that would mean that we would
be paying $8 for a piece of fruit. It would cost less to get a gun and
rob a grocery store, just for the produce. (“Everybody get down or I
will blow your heads off! Nobody better fucking breathe till I say so!
Fill the bag with avocados and bananas, bitch! NOW!”) Nobody wants
that. Nobody can even imagine that. They want to have cheap, illegal
labor, affordable vegetables and complain about having too many
Mexicans in their ghettos. That is what I call having your cake and
eating it too. It is also called being a hypocrite, and if hypocrites
were garbage, California and Texas would be New Jersey. (Fuck you,
Garden State! Seriously, that place smells like Hell’s sewer.) No
illegal immigrant ever took any job that an over-weight, well-housed,
a-TV-in-every-room American would fuck with someone else’s dick.
Tres: They don’t know the language. Couple of things about this raise
an eyebrow. What fucking language? Seriously, what the hell does that
even mean? Half of Arkansas is illiterate! When Bill Clinton was
elected to President of the United States he touted that he brought
his state’s level of education from 50th to like 48th. Since when is
that something to be proud of? Am I the only one that gets indigestion
from this? If so, please tell me so I can quit trying to understand
this, it is giving me cancer in my soul. Really, I can’t even swear
about this properly I am so incredulous. (Walrus-fuck!) The American
brand of the English language has over 45,000 idioms, making the whole
thing equivalent to the longest secret password to get into a private
tree-house in history. Ever heard a Japanese person try to speak it?
German? That dog won’t hunt. (For those of you not fluent in our
sanctified gibberish, that means “not optimal”.)
I went to college with Russians and by the time they graduated high
school, they were fluent in 3 languages at least. Most people from
non-English speaking countries are bilingual. So, let’s just assume
that, yes, we do have a sacred way of talkin’ bout stuff, and if’n you
ain’t able to speaks right, you’s wronger. (Southern people actually
speak like that. If that offended you, in my defense, you should not
be here reading this, you should be out screwing your livestock or
cousin somewhere. After all, your cousin ain’t going to fuck himself.
Well…) We are basically issuing a mandate that we want to be the
dumbest, poorest communicators on the planet. We are insuring against
all common sense that when we go to France, Mexico or the Netherlands,
when we mean to request a glass of water we are really asking for is a
cold glass of the chef’s ball sweat. We want all the food we order to
be wiped through whatever local kitchen staffer’s ass that is
available. How…why the…I…can’t…damn it! Soul…cancer…acting up…
The only thing polluting my beloved home land is the level of
complacent, accepted, self-inflicted stupidity that permeates our very
moral fiber. Those that are the problem won’t even understand what I
just said, so if you did understand it, as a favor to me, please reach
out and slap the nearest American you can find as hard as you can. If
they ask why, tell them because they killed Patrick Henry. They won’t
know what that means either.
The war on immigration is something the politicians engage in to
appease the older, white-trash people in Texas, California, Nevada,
Arizona and New Mexico who fear change. Those lovely individuals don’t
like seeing El Caminos rolling through San Diego with the Virgin de
Guadalupe spray painted on the hood, ridiculous sounding horns and
blasting music wrought with loud trumpets and super-sonic Spanish. It
frightens the over-alls right off of them. So, they elect people who
lie to their toothless faces by telling them that they will put up an
even bigger wall that will keep them out, most assuredly. What’s
hilarious about this, is that these morons believe that. Why don’t you
ask the Chinese about building walls to keep foreigners out? I mean,
they built the biggest, meanest wall EVER, and it still didn’t keep
the Mongolians out. The human spirit will find a way over, under or
good-old fashioned right the fuck through that wall. Maybe more
guards? Checkpoint Charlie, anyone? How about we just kill everyone
who is not us?
The politicians know that there is no solution, they are just feeding
their constituents the bullshit they want to hear and then doing
nothing about it, whilst fucking the hell out of them financially, and
they smile like the fucking inbreds they are and re-elect them every
chance they get. Why does no one complain about Canadians infesting
us? Because Canada has an economy. If you want to stop Mexicans from
swimming over to our country, help make them fiscally substantial.
Enable CAFTA (Central American Free Trade Agreement, the Southern
hemisphere’s counterpart to NAFTA) and give them the means to compete
in a global market. If you do that however, a couple of things will
happen. One, it will give them the jobs we actually might want to do;
and two, stop them from sneaking in to do the jobs we would never want
to do. We now find ourselves robbing Wal-mart for potatoes again.
People who want to fix immigration are the kind of people to hand you
a band-aid when you get your legs blown off. They will also sell you
beach front property on the moon.
I don’t know what I am trying to prove here. The kind of people that
read this aren’t part of the problem and the people that should come
to terms with it are too blinkered to ever change from their
quasi-racist ways. I mean, why is it always low-income, brown colored
people that this kind of stuff happens to? Thanks for the podium and
the opium, but if you’re brown, you’re going down.
God bless America and the gooey, chewy, political hypocrisy that is
the gum in our cultural Blow-pop.
And for the record, it IS fun kicking a dead dog. Now excuse me while
I go wash the smell off of my shoes.
line of bullshit. “Fix Immigration”. I am speaking of the U.S. as I am
not sure what the status of immigration is in other countries. Here it
is a highly politicized and touchy issue. Touchy like after a
ureteroscopy. (I know. I had one. Two things: One, kidney stones
really fucking suck. Really, really, really fucking suck. Unmercifully
blow-jobesque. Avoid if at all possible. Two, if you make a joke about
having a ureteroscopy, that just means that you have never had one. I
am a faithful, moral man (Ok, I TRY to be) but during the procedure,
if they had asked me to name all my family as members of the communist
party, I would have given them the addresses and social security
numbers as well. The general anesthetic did not do shit. To this day I
am terrified of urologists. I see one and my dick recedes into my body
like the head of a frightened turtle. If anyone ever asks you to relax
your prostate while holding a long, metal claw, you might want to
consider just fucking dying.)
People like to say the thing that sounds like the thing to say without
giving it any thought. (I mean how could it be lies if it is on TV
right? Hello?) That is fine, by the way. It makes me appear to be
smarter than they are without trying, which I am all for. I have a
fragile ego and brain damage, so anything that feeds the beast is all
good with me. I also like to piss off everyone on both sides of an
issue with one statement, and in the spirit of that…I just wanted to
clarify what I think, to add a voice to a very minority opinion on the
controversial subject: You are all fucking inbred. All of you who say
that you want to fix immigration are either lying or ignorant, take
your pick. (In the voice of a late night infomercial salesman) But
wait, there’s more!
In this country there is a “problem” with immigration. According to
“Americans” we have too many “immigrants” in our country, taking
“honest work” from “Americans” and soaking up the residuals of “our”
benefits, and polluting our “language” with their own. No joke, those
are the common complaints about it. Those three things: too many of
them, took our jobs, and no habla jibber-jabber, amigo. REALLY. (To
take the time to chastise these ideals and the people that cling to
them like Captain Dumb-Ass to the sinking HMS
Nuttier-than-squirrel-shit, almost feels like kicking a dead dog. I
have to be honest, I don’t even know what I am trying to prove here.
But I am a man, I require no reason to do a thing. Dear Dog God,
please forgive me and lend me thy nine iron. Lassie is goin’ pay.)
Uno: There are 307 Million people in the U.S. by recent estimates. The
Romans invented the census, and had they those types of numbers, I am
guessing they would have just spit-balled it and spent the rest of the
night in the orgy-torium. (I would have. “How many Israelites do we
have? Uhm, Fifty…million…and six…Oh yeah, we totally checked. Hey, who
wants their cock polished anonymously?”) So, 307 BIG plus change, and
that is probably under the actual amount, because of the number of
paranoid people who don’t answer the door or phone calls. (Dear
Cocaine, I miss you. Call me.) They estimate we have 11 million
illegal immigrants in the country, again probably lower than actual.
Anybody do the math? It is about 3%. Sounds like an epidemic to me.
That means for every ten people on the streets, 1/3 of 1 of them is
not from this country. Better grab a gun and begin shooting wildly
into crowds. Panic uncontrollably. I’m serious.
Second point on that, there is a problem with immigration that is
real. There is, and I can prove it. Ask a Native American, if you can
find one. You want to know why immigration is bad, find a Sioux or a
Cherokee or a Navajo Indian and ask their opinion of letting strange
people across your borders. They will probably tell you something
about the economy, right after the brutal murdering of their children
and forced relocation and, oh yeah, giving them blankets soaked with
small pox. That was hilarious. We killed the natives with malice and
unbridled efficiency because they had the land we wanted and they were
naked and they had funny gods, THEN we wrote a Bill of Rights for all
people that included Illegal Search and Seizure, Freedom of Expression
and Freedom of Religion. I couldn’t make this shit up. Immigration can
kill you, but apparently only if the immigrants are white. (Dear
Africa, help a brother out?) It makes the old shibboleth “Kill whitey”
sound like well-balanced domestic policy. Never trust a protestant.
Dos: They are taking our jobs. It’s true. They will steal your job, if
after college you want to pick strawberries in southern California for
25¢ an hour 13 hours a day with no overtime, retirement, sun-screen or
health insurance. Those greedy bastards. Will no amount of gold slate
their thirst? It would literally take you a thousand, million years to
pay back your school loans. Literally. (The real figure is more like
$5.25 per hour, or $8,900 some annually. But in California money, they
might as well be paying them with dreams.) If we did not have them and
had to pay real money for legal workers, that would mean that we would
be paying $8 for a piece of fruit. It would cost less to get a gun and
rob a grocery store, just for the produce. (“Everybody get down or I
will blow your heads off! Nobody better fucking breathe till I say so!
Fill the bag with avocados and bananas, bitch! NOW!”) Nobody wants
that. Nobody can even imagine that. They want to have cheap, illegal
labor, affordable vegetables and complain about having too many
Mexicans in their ghettos. That is what I call having your cake and
eating it too. It is also called being a hypocrite, and if hypocrites
were garbage, California and Texas would be New Jersey. (Fuck you,
Garden State! Seriously, that place smells like Hell’s sewer.) No
illegal immigrant ever took any job that an over-weight, well-housed,
a-TV-in-every-room American would fuck with someone else’s dick.
Tres: They don’t know the language. Couple of things about this raise
an eyebrow. What fucking language? Seriously, what the hell does that
even mean? Half of Arkansas is illiterate! When Bill Clinton was
elected to President of the United States he touted that he brought
his state’s level of education from 50th to like 48th. Since when is
that something to be proud of? Am I the only one that gets indigestion
from this? If so, please tell me so I can quit trying to understand
this, it is giving me cancer in my soul. Really, I can’t even swear
about this properly I am so incredulous. (Walrus-fuck!) The American
brand of the English language has over 45,000 idioms, making the whole
thing equivalent to the longest secret password to get into a private
tree-house in history. Ever heard a Japanese person try to speak it?
German? That dog won’t hunt. (For those of you not fluent in our
sanctified gibberish, that means “not optimal”.)
I went to college with Russians and by the time they graduated high
school, they were fluent in 3 languages at least. Most people from
non-English speaking countries are bilingual. So, let’s just assume
that, yes, we do have a sacred way of talkin’ bout stuff, and if’n you
ain’t able to speaks right, you’s wronger. (Southern people actually
speak like that. If that offended you, in my defense, you should not
be here reading this, you should be out screwing your livestock or
cousin somewhere. After all, your cousin ain’t going to fuck himself.
Well…) We are basically issuing a mandate that we want to be the
dumbest, poorest communicators on the planet. We are insuring against
all common sense that when we go to France, Mexico or the Netherlands,
when we mean to request a glass of water we are really asking for is a
cold glass of the chef’s ball sweat. We want all the food we order to
be wiped through whatever local kitchen staffer’s ass that is
available. How…why the…I…can’t…damn it! Soul…cancer…acting up…
The only thing polluting my beloved home land is the level of
complacent, accepted, self-inflicted stupidity that permeates our very
moral fiber. Those that are the problem won’t even understand what I
just said, so if you did understand it, as a favor to me, please reach
out and slap the nearest American you can find as hard as you can. If
they ask why, tell them because they killed Patrick Henry. They won’t
know what that means either.
The war on immigration is something the politicians engage in to
appease the older, white-trash people in Texas, California, Nevada,
Arizona and New Mexico who fear change. Those lovely individuals don’t
like seeing El Caminos rolling through San Diego with the Virgin de
Guadalupe spray painted on the hood, ridiculous sounding horns and
blasting music wrought with loud trumpets and super-sonic Spanish. It
frightens the over-alls right off of them. So, they elect people who
lie to their toothless faces by telling them that they will put up an
even bigger wall that will keep them out, most assuredly. What’s
hilarious about this, is that these morons believe that. Why don’t you
ask the Chinese about building walls to keep foreigners out? I mean,
they built the biggest, meanest wall EVER, and it still didn’t keep
the Mongolians out. The human spirit will find a way over, under or
good-old fashioned right the fuck through that wall. Maybe more
guards? Checkpoint Charlie, anyone? How about we just kill everyone
who is not us?
The politicians know that there is no solution, they are just feeding
their constituents the bullshit they want to hear and then doing
nothing about it, whilst fucking the hell out of them financially, and
they smile like the fucking inbreds they are and re-elect them every
chance they get. Why does no one complain about Canadians infesting
us? Because Canada has an economy. If you want to stop Mexicans from
swimming over to our country, help make them fiscally substantial.
Enable CAFTA (Central American Free Trade Agreement, the Southern
hemisphere’s counterpart to NAFTA) and give them the means to compete
in a global market. If you do that however, a couple of things will
happen. One, it will give them the jobs we actually might want to do;
and two, stop them from sneaking in to do the jobs we would never want
to do. We now find ourselves robbing Wal-mart for potatoes again.
People who want to fix immigration are the kind of people to hand you
a band-aid when you get your legs blown off. They will also sell you
beach front property on the moon.
I don’t know what I am trying to prove here. The kind of people that
read this aren’t part of the problem and the people that should come
to terms with it are too blinkered to ever change from their
quasi-racist ways. I mean, why is it always low-income, brown colored
people that this kind of stuff happens to? Thanks for the podium and
the opium, but if you’re brown, you’re going down.
God bless America and the gooey, chewy, political hypocrisy that is
the gum in our cultural Blow-pop.
And for the record, it IS fun kicking a dead dog. Now excuse me while
I go wash the smell off of my shoes.
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