How To Stop Pissing Me Off

As the first year of my blog winds down to a close, I look back on all my posts and think aloud, 'wow, I was pissed'.

I'm sure you, the loyal reader, have often asked yourself why I am so easily upset. The answer is simple: you. You just keep pissing me off to no friggin' end. I hate you so very, very much.

As usual, I know what you're thinking. You are thinking, as you simultaneously shit, piss, and cream yourself, "oh dear sweet lord Darsh, how can I please you?" You wanna know how to stop pissing me off? Then keep readin'; I feel one of my half-rant, half-list things coming on.

1) GET OFF THE MESSAGE BOARDS. Remember when I used to complain about fat Goth chicks who read Twilight, or post their shitty poetry all over the forums? That was a beautiful era for me. I was never short of anything to write about. But these days, chubby female fans of My Chemical Romance have taken a backseat to Message-Board Homos. I hate people who post every fuckin' thing that passes through their empty skulls on a Message Board. I'm a gamer, and I like to look up cheat codes because cheating kicks ass, and nothing ruins it for everyone more than that one guy who has to post 'FUCK BUSH' on the Fable 2 page. Wow, buddy, way to be 'controversial', and 'hard-core'. Shut the fuck up, maggot. Yeah, fuck Bush and fuck you too. What does that even mean? Fuck Bush? You pussy. I hate people who start tirades about how much they hate the president when they don't even know what the fuck they're talking about. Wanna end 'the war'? Stop smoking pot and read a goddamn book. Bitch, I bet you don't even know the name of Barack Obama's Defense Secretary pick, and you trust him to cover your ass if Osama strikes again? Well, I hope your 'FUCK BUSH' post doubles as a bullet-proof vest, because that's all your ass will have.

2) PUT AWAY THE GUITAR. That's enough, John Mayer. I was going to Taco Bell the other night to pick up a few of those cinnamon-twisty things, and when I walk in, I start hearing an acoustic guitar being played... poorly. I wonder to myself, 'man, must be the new Dave Matthews single or some shit', until it starts getting louder the closer I get to the registers. When I get to the counter, I can barely order it's so loud. So I look past the fryers, and who do I see but some dumb rich kid smoking a joint and strumming his guitar. Seriously? It's bad enough I have to go to school with you bastards, but I can't even get a few twisty things without you ruining everything? Jesus Christ, you're on the tennis team! Stop pretending to be all brooding and emotional. Fuck you, you twat. Take off that stupid poncho and stop torturing that guitar before I impregnate your mother.

3) READ. I hate the illiterates. What's more, I hate their enablers. Whenever I go to the library, there's some homeless guy begging for change. So one day I ask him, 'dude, why don't you get a job?', and he says, 'dude, I'm not educated'. So I say, 'well, there's a library behind you, so why don't you educate yourself?', and he says, 'because I can't read'. And I ask, 'well, why can't you read?', and he says, 'because my PO says I don't have to.' You worthless piece of shit. Not only do you insult the economy by being an unemployed, homeless felon, but you have the gall to blame your own obsolescence on some Ivy League ass-hat. Needless to say I choked him to death with my force powers, because I am a Sith Lord. I then hunted down his PO and made him eat his own doo-doo. If you wanna be an alcoholic vagrant, that's fine by me. But don't you dare start begging on my street corners and blaming some jerk-off who gets paid in my tax dollars for your own uselessness. Kill the poor.

4)WORSHIP ME. You wanna see me upgrade my sight with some HTML or whatever the hell it's called? Then prove it. Sign up for one of the few remaining positions as a disciple(It's free), and you'll be blessed with e-mail updates for whenever I update the blog, and the joy of seeing me spend my blogger points on a site upgrade. You won't be disappointed. I know this because I say when you're disappointed.

My Apology To Santa

Dear Santa,

I'm sorry you're a fat, crybaby pussy. I'm sorry you fill me with a hate so black light cannot escape its inky surface. I'm sorry you made me want to kill you so much. No hard feelings.

Love,
Spence Fiffield AKA 'Darsh'

P.S. You're welcome. For the apology, I mean. Also, to answer your question, yes, there are many things you can do to repay me for the time and effort that went into this apology. For example, a SPAS-12 Tactical Shotgun. It's a flower. Strange name for a flower, I know, but I think it's beautiful, and I'm sure you will too, as I jam it under your nose and ask you to sniff. I would also like a few elves. Specifically, the two elves from Fred Clause, the pasty guy and the hot chick. They'll carry my gu--flowers around, as I ask people to... smell them.

I would also like a handwritten letter from God, apologizing for all the times he's screwed me over. Like that one time he made me shoot my own Dad while I was trying to shoot you. Don't mean to be 'that guy', but I feel like that's only fair.

Finally, I'd like you to prove your unabashed apologetic feelings towards my end by challenging Barack Obama to a fist fight on CNN. This should be done before January 1st in order for you to receive full exoneration for your atrocities.

P.P.S. You should probably keep this as 'new', so you can remember what you have to do. :)

Gay: The New Retarded

I hate Entertainment Weekly. Matter of fact, I hate all magazines that don't focus primarily on video games or naked women. Y'know why? Good, then I needn't continue.

Oh? You don't know? I hate these pinko rags because they are tools of the liberal media. I, however, am a tool of justice. A big tool, one whose always jamming himself down your throat. Were it not for my brave, tireless efforts, we would surely have succumbed to the whim of the Blue States by now.

Consider this: none of the Red States in the Union allow gay marriage. Meanwhile, in the Blue States, there are at least TWO WHOLE STATES that permit gay marriage. That's two too many! The liberal agenda is smothering us with the gay agenda. And I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure the gay agenda involves guys fucking guys. Just puttin' that out there.

But is my crusade all in vain? Perhaps. The liberal media has control over everything we hear and see, such as the media, and other such things. They also have a major stake in Hollywood. Think I'm insane? A crazed conspiracy theorist? Take a look at some of history's biggest Oscar winners and judge for yourself:

1) Forrest Gump, winner for best picture in 1994. It raked in almost fifty million dollars in the US alone. Why? It featured Tom Hanks as a retard.
2) What's Eating Gilbert Grape?, nominee for three academy awards in 1992. It was highly praised by critics for Leonardo DiCaprio's heartwarming portrayal of a retarded boy. It brought in about twenty-five million domestic.
3)The Village, M. Night Shyamalan's first step towards mediocrity. It was hated by critics, but still was nominated for a Golden Globe because of Adrian Brody. Who'd he play, you ask? A retard!

Noticing a trend? If you play a retard on screen, you will get lots of money and award statues made out of cheap plastic. Still, those statues will get you a lot of poonanie.

This liberal slant has corrupted the once respectable screen-actors award circuit. Remember when actors had to actually try to win an award? I certainly do. Those days, however, are long gone, as all an actor must do to receive national recognition for his efforts is walk with a limp and say 'duh' a lot. And drool... drool a lot.

But as of late, the retard movies have been shafted. WHEW! What a relief, right? Maybe now Good Burger will finally get some props. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Nowadays, rather than impersonate a retard, one must play a gay guy. Case in point: Milk, a thoroughly mediocre film that includes very little of America's favorite dairy-based drink. This film is C+ at best, people. Yes, Sean Penn can act like a motherfucker, but still, this isn't Oscar worthy shit. Oh, what's that? He plays a gay dude? Holy shit! Give that man an Oscar!

See? Sounds pretty stupid when I say it, but not when Entertainment Weekly does, apparently. C'mon gang, we can do better than this. I say we boycott this clunker. Go out into town and form a picket line around all the theatres showing this film. Also, bring signs that say stuff like Get Gays Out Of Hollywood, or God Hates Fags. That way, people will take the time to understand and respect our struggle. And what are we struggling for? Not much. Just making actors work for their money.

Capture The Kringle

The gayest yuletime is upon us. Cursed are we, as Mother Earth has shown her disdain for us as of late with icy winds and plain ice as well. I know what you're thinking; fuck Mother Earth. My friend, you are correct. If I had my way, I'd rip this crusty old bitch a new orifice. Alas, I'm just one man.

And that's not all this godless season brings about: the yuletime brings about Yules like there's no tomorrow. I hate the holidays. Every day I don't have to talk to some old skank my Grandpa picked up during WWII is a good one. Xmas is the one day where I actually can't do anything about this obligation. But don't call me lazy; I've tried, man. Last year I gave my Grandmother my Grandfather. Of course, my Grandfather had been dead for two years, so he was looking a little malnourished. Also, dragging him up from the brittle birthing canal of Frau Gaia left him a little grass-stained, but other than that, he was in reasonable condition for a used gift. But did that piss off my Grandma enough to leave me alone? Hell no. The bitch refuses to die. This year, I'm giving her a gun and one bullet, alongside a note that says 'GO DIE'. I'm hoping she won't remember I gave that to her for her birthday as well.

But the worst part of Xmas is that fat white faggot Santa. I hate you, Santa. Or should I call you Claus? Sounds like someone's got a little German in him. You know who else was German? Hitler. Just saying.

Each year that blob of bright red gaiety (not 'happiness' gaiety either; the fruitcake gaiety) forcibly penetrates our homes in search of children whom he can titillate and tantalize with gifts and very phallic candy canes so that he can gain their trust. That's all well and good until he starts to abuse that trust. Suddenly, Santa arrives twice a year, this time without any presents. Seems Claus is a little light on rent. Maybe you could help him out? Soon, he's knocking on your door once a month, looking for food and money, and oh by the way is your daughter eighteen yet? He's a boil that needs to be removed from the buttcheeks of this great country. Please note that this has nothing to do with the Xbox 360 he gypped me out of a few years back, or the painful humiliation associated with buying my own goddamn Xbox. No, this hatred, like most of mine, is derived from my childhood.

I was a spry, youthful seven year old when I decided to kidnap Claus. After all, what child doesn't want to blackmail and extort a jolly old elf into giving him free toys? So I sat in front of the fireplace with my dad's Winchester .357, just sort of cleaning it, and loading it, and laying on my back in the flue and pointing it up the chimney. Y'know, kid's stuff. The fat bastard stood me up. Homo. The only person I got to shoot that Xmas was my Dad, who dressed up like Claus and snuck up on me. Big mistake, Dad.

So this year, as you suffer through torments unspeakable during this most Brutal Yule, I ask my loyal followers (that's you, chubby) to help me murder Claus once and for all. Put bear traps in your fireplaces, hide pungee stakes under your tree, and stick a few live Wolverines in your stockings. This year, let's band together and end the madness. This year, we CAPTURE THE KRINGLE!

The Videogame Version

Fans of mine, rejoice. I'll soon be making sweet, passionate love to your Xbox 360s.

For the uninitiated, I have saturated the media with a nice, creamy load of awesomeness. And though this load may be hard to swallow, I assure you, it be the truth. First I conquered your computer, then your local cinema of choice (see 'The Movie Version'), and now you can take me home and stick me where the sun don't shine: in your Xbox. Of course, if you have, like, a special see-through Xbox, I guess the sun might shine there. But it shouldn't, Xboxes don't do well in direct sunlight.

What kind of videogame is this, you ask? The best kind, I answer. The kind made by a true videogame fan: some Korean guy named Hungh. Hungh plays Starcraft 24/7; who better to make my videogame for me? Sure, I'll be giving my input at key times, but Hungh's the one doing the real work. It's called outsourcing, children, and it saves money. Look it up on Wikipedia.

What kind of content can we expect, you ask. Who's we? Got a mouse in your pocket? Fine, I'll spill the beans. I'll let the cat out of the bag. I'll let the cat eat the beans. I'll put the beans back in the bag. My game will feature constant full-frontal nudity. This will garner and AO rating from the ESRB, no doubt, but when have I ever cared what the fuck a bunch of fat old skanks on their periods think? The game shall also feature Vikings: lots and lots of naked Vikings. You will play as Xavier, the last Baltic Viking. Yes, Xavier is a Spanish name, what of it?

Anyhoo, Xavier will run through the game world, naked of course, slaying trolls and dragons and demons and Swedes. Mostly Swedes, though. Then, he'll invade Canada and hunt the French out of existence. But the in-game experience will also feature numerous innovations. For instance, instead of a health bar, Xavier will have a Boner-Gauge. When his manhood goes limp, he'll stop giving a fuck about whatever the hell he's doing and go take a nap. But if he should find some fly honey in a skimpy bear pelt and bang the shit out of her, the Boner-Gauge goes right back up. The Boner-Gauge also increase every time Xavier kills something.

But with what, right? A game like this would suck dong without cool weapons. Well, since Xavier's going up against some pretty badass monsters, like Draculas, Robot-Draculas, and Godzilla, he'll be equipped with some awesome Viking shit. Like lasers, for instance, and machineguns with chainsaws on the front. Also, he has a special crossbow that shoots chainsaws with grenades inside them. It will be called the Badass Mutha 4000, and will be the coolest weapon ever.

Look for my videogame, titled My Videogame, to hit stores on December 11, 2012. I chose that day, because for some reason, people think that's when the world will end. Bullshit. These are the same people that watch The Number 23 and look for secret messages. The only message in that movie is no secret at all: Jim Carrey's career is dead. Just look at Yes Man. That looks worse than the Miley Cyrus concert movie.

Hey, -Core Kids... I FUCKED YOUR MOTHERS!

Dear -Core Kids,

May I first take the time to thank you for all you've done for me. I really would not be so angry and diatribe-prone were it not for your tireless efforts. You really have gone the extra mile in pissing me off. Not only do you dress like twelve-year-old girls, bring backpacks to metal shows, shout requests to the band, make snide, pseudo-intellectual comments to some drunk chick in order to get her pants off, and listen to shit music; you give so much back to the community. You give me something to hate, which in turn keeps me from hating small children at the park, which in turn hinders the forward progression of my arrest record.

I would also like to thank Encyclopaedia Metallum for a) misspelling their own name, and b) giving me a new site to jerk-off to. Not only is this horrible, horrible website touting itself as the new home for all things metal despite the fact that nine times out of ten it is wrong, but it also gives -Core kids a place to BLOG. We all know those are evil, right kids? (except mine)

I was trying to find a review of United Abominations, last years Megadeth album. Yes, Megadeth rules and Metallica drools cum all over my brand new shag carpet, we know that. Bu apparently some asswipe named 'the Ghoul' disagrees. May I quote? Please note that even if you say aloud, 'no', I'm still going to do it. As my great grandfather once said just before he shot himself, 'no matter how many times she says no, don't stop dry humping'. Words to live by, people.

Seriously, who does Dave (Mustaine) think he is? This album is just modern rock with a metal mask on. The songs are just verse/chorus/verse/chorus/solo/chorus; there's no imagination here.

First of all, thank you for being a prissy little ass-sniffer with the fucking audacity to talk about Mr. Dave Mustaine like you know him. That really helps get the subjective opinion thing across. Second of all, as per your comments towards the song structure, you apparently didn't hear half the album, because shit was flying like the Luftwaffe. These solos are tasty as fuck. Dave Mustaine might as well change his name to Shreddy Krueger, 'cause I had Nightmares about his metal.

Another gem:
These 'lyrics' are just the rantings of a pseudo-political burnt out rockstar.

And your review is just the ranting of a pimple-faced virgin who never got Dave Mustaine's autograph. I did; he signed my left man-boob. It was glorious. Dude, I feel sorry for you. I mean, you spent money on an album that kicks ass like Chuck Norris, and yet you can't step beyond your personal vendettas against Monsieur Mustaine enough to enjoy the sweet riffs. Maybe you should put out an album... oh, wait! You aren't musically talented at all! I forgot.

In conclusion, I'd like to turn my attention back to the -Core kids. You are a bunch of bleeding vaginas. Stuff a tampon in it and realize once and for all that you aren't metal. If you can't shred like a cheese grater, slap that bass like I slap yo mama's ass, beat those skins like they owe you money, or crush mics like the Hulk, then get off the fuckin' stage. And also stop screaming. Screamo needs to die like Lance Armstrong needs his second nut back.

Why Should I Care?

I work at a grocery store. I know, that's like saying I get my ass pounded by a fat black guy named Molly. But I like to think I'm a little bit better than the fat white lumps that stumble through the store and then complain to me about how the store is too big. No, really. Okay fatass, let me just hit the fucking shrink ray. Can I also give you money for a gastric bypass, you lazy cunt?



On an unrelated note, I hate everyone. This is a widely known fact. But I especially hate blubbery white soccer moms with way too much disposable income. Do you jelly-rolls think I'm bagging your shit like a little bitch for fun? No sir! I'm a slave to my wage, and dammit, I'm proud. At least I do something with my life, unlike you motherless bastards.



You retards seem to think you have privileges that you don't. For instance, you don't have the right to talk to me. Didja know dat? And, though I know this goes without saying, you also can't condemn me to Hell for all eternity when I bag you in plastic. Ooh, I'm putting non-biodegradeable shit into Mother Earth's clammy crevice. Who gives a flying fuck? Mother Earth is a toothless old she-john.

They say something like, 'there are oceans out there that are literally filled with plastic bags, and using paper/canvas bags really helps the cause'. Oh, God... I feel a hategasm coming on.

Where do I begin? First of all, no, there aren't oceans full of plastic bags 'out there'. If there were enough plastic bags to fill oceans 'out there', they wouldn't be oceans anymore. They'd be landfills. But then again, 'out there' is a pretty big country. I can imagine how a brainless dolt like you would mix up the landmarks. After all, an ocean and a pile of plastic bags both look exactly alike. Second, neither paper or canvas helps 'the cause', because a) paper kills trees, and b) canvas bags are made by child workers in third world countries. No, really, look it up. Plastic bags save the company millions, which allow them to expand their stores, which allow the stores to hire more staff, which means more jobs for American workers. You use paper or canvas, you destroy the American job market. And finally, help the cause? Really? THE CAUSE? I've got a question for you...

why do I care?

Why do I give two shits about your stupid 'cause'? This is something I ask all people with 'causes'. There's a genocide in Darfur and you ask for my change as I leave a movie theater. Why do I care? Is Darfur in the United States? No? Then why am I giving my money to a kid wearing Birkenstocks and a poncho that smells like doob? Maybe children are being diagnosed with Leukemia the world over. Boo fucking hoo. Adults are diagnosed way more frequently, but because children are sooo cute, they get a spot on Maury Povich before an adult whose actually done the world some good in their lifetime.

Finally, if you really want any of my help at all for your 'cause', stop calling it a cause. There's only one true cause, and that's the IRA. What's the IRA? A fucking terrorist group. Yeah, that's right. 'The Cause' is European slang for the Irish Republican Army, a militia group that burns down orphanages and kills Protestants. Thanks for supporting 'The Cause', you jackoffs.

I'm Too Sexy

Sorry, sweetheart. I'm too sexy for you. I'm so sexy, I'm leaving you for a menage au trois with your younger, more attractive sister, and your older, more experienced mother. I know, kick in the balls, right? Ha! I would love to see the look on your face right now.

So why am I leaving. Typical- every time I leave you for someone much better suited to my needs, you cry and beg and say you'd do anything for love, but you won't do that. Maybe I'm leaving you because you can't stop quoting Meatloaf, how about that? Bitch.

I could rant for hours about how much you suck. And I did, after I was done nailing your mother and sister. But rather than waste everyone's time on what you do to annoy me, here's a list of what you don't do to make my penis smile. It may also come off as a list of funny sex positions, so, hey, two for one.

1) THE GLASS BOTTOM BOAT. This is when I asked if I could put cellophane over your face. You said something stupid, like, 'No, how would I breathe?' Even when I'm writing you, you sound stupid. You also didn't let me finish. I was putting cellophane over your face so I could crap on you. I don't think crapping is all too sexy- I just wanted to be able to say I crapped on someones face. Also, ask this question aloud to whomever you see next, be they your grandmother or a Catholic priest, I don't care: 'Would you care for a Glass Bottom Boat?' I know, hilarious!

2) THE JERSEY SHORE. Very similar to the Glass Bottom Boat, the Jersey Shore was that time I was behind you, doing it and doing it and doing it well, when suddenly I cut a huge wet fart, and also my hand was up my ass, and also I then shoved that hand into your face. Dude, you were so pissed, it was so funny, and I so called you Gerald later by accident. What a crazy Yom Kippur.

3) THE ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Remember that time I shaved my balls? I felt so aquadynamic when I swam for the rest of the week. It was phenomenal. But then remember the first time we did it with my shaved balls? I creamed on your face 'accidentally', and then shoved a hand up my ass. That's when you started chewing me out for creaming on your face. God, it's always about you. 'Why'd you do that to me?', 'get off of me!', blah blah blah. Well you interrupted my funny sex thing, yet again. What you didn't know was that up my ass I hid a bag full of my pubes! I was gonna shower them over you in a very humorous way, but I guess now I;m going to find two other people to Abraham Lincoln.Oh wait, here come your Mother and Sister. Maybe they'll appreciate my pubes and jizz being all over their faces.

4) THE COCK SANDWICH. This isn't really a sex move. This was that time I put my twatsicle into a hotdog bun and gave it to your Grandma. You both acted very immature afterward. I was not amused.

5) THE BLUMPKIN. No matter how hard I tried, you just wouldn't fulfill my ultimate fantasy: the Blumpkin. For the uneducated on the matter, the Blumpkin is when you get a blowjob while you're taking a dump (or leaving one). Therein lies this sex move's beauty: efficiency. Imagine it: you're blowing me, I'm shitting, and I still have two hands available! I could play my Xbox and eat chicken, and also recite poetry while taking a dump and getting blown. I could even keep eating the chicken when I need both hands to play Xbox, because I'd balance the bucket of chicken on your head. Yes! I'm aroused just thinking about how I could better society by spreading word of the Blumpkin. Maybe if I'd had a willing girlfriend, I could've taken notes on all I'd accomplished, then given those notes to the leaders at the G2O summit, which would've ended all wars and brought about a new Golden Age for the human race. Wow, girl. You just fucked over the entire planet. Smooth.

Who Needs To Die?

A wonderful question. Who does need to die? I spend many a night jacking off while contemplating this contemplation. My results are almost always the same, but as of late, more and more of the cast of 3O Rock are making it on. Here are a few excerpts, as well as the reasons why they must be terminated. After all, simply declaring who must die would be unfair. I mean, if the Punisher just ran around killing people without alluding to their crimes in a splendiferous fashion, where would modern comics be? Much shorter and funnier, I imagine, but the stories would no doubt suffer.



NERMAL, the Gray Cat from Garfield. I hate Nermal. I don't even know why she exists, really. Who is she? Is she Jon's other cat? How gay is Jon that he has two cats? I've never really understood where the fuck Nermal comes from, or why Garfield hates her. But then again, it's Garfield. No one knows what the fuck is going on in this strip. Apparently, the ambiguously gay single man Jon lives alone and smokes pot all day. Why else would he think his two cats are talking?



MILHOUSE, that little wiener from The Simpsons. Milhouse, Milhouse, Milhouse. You four-eyed piece of shit. I hate Milhouse. He represents everything we want to say and do to everyone who wears glasses. Then why, pray tell, has he not been tortured into killing himself yet? Granted, he does suffer from Stigmata, but this is not enough. I scream for Milhouse's death. Better yet, let Moe kill him. Let's make Moe a serial killer. He'll tend the drunks by night, then stalk the parks for children to molest in the day. One day he picks up Milhouse, rapes him, then kills him. That would be an Emmy winner! I'm laughing so hard thinking about Milhouse being killed, I'm about to shit! Whoops! There she goes! That's right... I crapped myself.



ANGELICA, that dirty whore from The Rugrats. I hate Angelica so very, very much. All she does is piss and moan and be a huge bratty cunt and scream at babies. Bitch, that's my job. Don't make me stomp your fucking pigtails in. She really wouldn't be so goddamn intolerable if she wasn't a hero to thousands of little brats with rich parents and a bottle of blonde hair dye. In fact, fuck the entire writing staff of Rugrats. They never aired the episode I wrote for them; my magnificent fanscript really would've saved the show from being cancelled four years ago. In my episode, Angelica gets mad about some bullshit and screams at everyone. Then, the little black chick who is a RAGING stereotype comes and beats the living fuck out of her. Then, the parents come in and pee on her. It was three minutes long, and during writing, I laughed so hard my anus turned inside out.

SPIKE LEE, the huge racist. Look, Spike, we need to talk. You know how your movies have always portrayed the white man as a racially insensitive klan of rednecks who burn crosses and lynch blacks? Yeah, we've been meaning to get back to you about the huge double-standard to which your films are held. Apparently, it's fine for a black guy to make a movie where all the white guys are public nuisances who rape and pillage and oppress black people, but if Steven Spielberg put out a movie where a white neighborhood is besieged by a bunch of afro-american gangstas, the NAACP would be up in arms. Look, maybe there are some racial prejudices amongst the white man towards the black man. But you know what's really racist? Making broad statements about people from a certain ethnic background, for instance, 'all whites hate blacks'.

HIPPIES, those social mongoloids. I hate hippies. There's this hippie in my government class named Dan R., no wait, I'll call him D. Ratigan. Anyway, this asshole loves to sit in the back of the class and talk to this preppy chick about how much he loves to smoke weed and play guitar. Wow, you listen to the Dave Matthews Band, play hacky sack, and smoke weed? Talk about an overachiever! What's worse is that whenever I stand up for my fellow classmates and tell him to shut the fuck up, everyone turns against me! Once, we were all working on some shitty ditto paper, when Dan R., sorry, D. Ratigan of Manchester, New Hampshire, 03102, starts asking the whole class, 'hey, what are we doing again? I totally forgot'. Ha ha! Drug addiction is sooooo funny! So I say, 'hey Dan, put out the joint', and suddenly everyone starts hissing me! That's bullshit! Excuse me for calling a spade a spade, but since when do we stick up for the dealer's feelings? Whatever, you useless hippie. Stop playing guitar in the middle of class and walking around like you fucking invented the damn thing. Know what's worse than a douchebag playing guitar? A douchebag trying to play guitar.

That helped with my uncontrollabe rage. I hope you don't mind me shooting a hategasm all over your hair. Some people think that's good for your scalp.

Your Opinions or A Heap Of Dog Shit?

Hey, kids, wanna know what can really brighten a bad day? Breaking down and belittling someone stupider than you! Take my word for it; nothing makes you feel like more of a man than making a young girl cry. Case in point:

The other day in government class, we were talking about what a person must do to become a senator. Seems harmless enough right? Wrong, turkey. Suddenly, a hand goes up, and the teacher, being a woman, falls for an obvious ploy at grabbing attention. After that, the whole class goes to hell in a handbasket.

Guess what? It turns out the person who raised there hands was a vegetarian. And guess what else? They had an opinion that nobody cared about. I know, I'm repeating myself there, but I just wanted you to see where I'm going. Are you ready? Are you ready for the stupidity that is this bitch's mindgasm? Well then, hold onto your penis, because it's about to get shriveled by...

THE OPINION OF A VEGETARIAN!

And I quote:
"I don't get why senators think they have the right to tell women what to do with there bodies. Where do they get off?"
Here's where I get off: kicking the shit out of your feeble ass!

And I quoth again (this time it's me):
"Where do you get off?"
Awed silence as my impromptu remark sinks in like a boatload of rich brats near an iceberg.
I continued:
"First of all, no one cares what you think. Why should they? You think, for reasons undetermined, that it's a good idea to waste everyone's learning time to make your stupid opinions about something unrelated to the class discussion known. Second of all, you act like a friggin' Senator gives two shits about how you feel about abortion. Democracy in our nation is based on electing representatives who share our points of view. It's called majority rule. You don't like it? You feel cheated? Then go to Canada, you stupid dike."

Insert cheering here. Also insert that stupid chick crying. Her tears were like a solvent that cured the welts of my hatred. Hatred welts in my soul.. I should be a poet.

Anyhoo, the teacher was so happy that I tore that bitch down, she sent me to the principal's office, presumably where I would receive my key to the city for my heroic efforts. But I guess the Principal didn't hear about my valiant struggle, because she chewed me out about "equality of opinion", and "hearing all voices". Bullshit. I'm right, you're wrong, get used to it.

Just writing about this occurrence hardened a very special part of me: my soul. I'm hoping it will harden a part of you as well. And with our hardness united, we can squirt a load of truth all over the face of narrowmindedness, and wrongmindedness, and also wrongness. A savory, salty load of FREEDOM. Your shit=ruined!

Pedophiles Walk Amongst Us

We are surrounded by pedophiles, people. Pedophiles that want to rape our children. And if our children are rape victims, it's no longer 'okay' to abuse them (not really; in my book, it's always okay). So let's stop raping children, and start hitting them. You ask me why the family unit has fallen from grace. Well, Grace, the answer to bringing your family back together is in your hands. Now ball those hands into fists, and show your children you really care.

After we've gotten a good upper body workout by hitting our kids, let's stretch those glutes by running the pedophiles out of town. But before we do that, we'll have to round them all up into special camps. The counselors, or gaurds, at this camp will tie the pedophiles down and force them to concentrate on pictures of nubile young boys. Hence, we'll call these places 'concentration camps'.

You may be wondering how we will tell who is a pedophile and who is not. As you may well know, pedophiles are masters of disguise. They slip into a neighborhood, undetected, like an STD that you get by sitting on the rim of a hot tub, then rape the shit out of our young boys. Then, like a fart cut by an outwardly facing fan, they drift off into the night.

For all these ninja-like abilities, pedophiles do have one universal identifying feature: the mustache. All pedophiles have mustaches, and all mustachioed peoples are pedohphiles. All we have to do is go door to door with pitchforks, rifles, and lightsabers and ask if anyone has a mustache. If they say yes, we go in and investigate. After carefully examining the mustachioed bastards to make sure they aren't Italian women, we run 'em out!

With all the pedophiles gone, we can finally focus on the real problem with our country: too many black presidents.

Librarians Are Evil

I hate Autumn. For one, it has way too many names. Autumn, Fall... that's too many. Does this season think it's Prince or something? Stupid fall. Stupid Prince.

Autumn is truly the season of Satan. Nothing brings out the greed monkey like the looming yule banana that is Christmas. But if Christ's Coming isn't enough to make your banana cream, then maybe Thankstaking will. Oh, you've never heard of Thankstaking? Well, we used to celebrate the rape and enslavement of the Native homies of Frau Gaia in a glorious display of gluttony called, 'Thanksgiving'. But then we realized we weren't giving anything. Come to think of it, we aren't really thanking anyone either. Perhaps one day, Thankstaking will be rightfully honored as Hatetaking.

But above all, Autumn brings out the Librarians. Evil, cold-hearted women whose genitals are reminiscent of ice sculptures. Sure, they're cool, like all vaginae. And maybe they're even hot. But stick your wick into that chick and you're dick deep in Sadgasm. What's Sadgasm, you ask? Shut the hell up and let me finish a goddamn story.

Librarians are the tools of Satan. They walk around punishing frivolous children on the grounds of childish frivolity. They make kids cry. I hate it when kids cry. That makes it a lot less funny when I verbally abuse them. Plus, cops are much more suspicious of grown men yelling at crying children than they are of those who berate the dry-eyed ones. I mean, from a distance, it looks like I'm just yelling at a midget. Nothing wrong with that. After all, midgets have no rights.

Autumn makes the Librarian irritable. Here, everyone is talking about how great Christmas and Thankstaking is going to be, how lovely their lives are, and how they don't want to hang themselves in the reference book section, before inviting a friend to coffee at the nearest Dunkin's and leaving without loaning something. Then, they're left in silence, wondering why they chose a career in a business that makes no money at all. Libraries suck, and tacitly, so do the -ians who tend to them.

Well, there they sit, in the silence, drowning in a sea of Sadgasm, when in I walk, a good chunk of chicken on my arm, and I ask to be directed to the periodicals. The librarian tells me they're downstairs. I then ask to see her underpants, knowing they're downstairs as well. One slap in the face later, and I know the sting of a librarian. They are evil incarnate. They set up jokes whose consequences they do not comprehend. We must end the librarian by ending the library. Burn all books.

Ever failed an English course? Ever been ridiculed in class for being none too bright? Ever cried yourself to sleep because you're a forty-two-year-old illiterate? Yes, you have. I knew it, because I rule. I urge you, dummy, to take up your fire hot-hots and burn all wordy evil things. If it has words, destroy it. Starting with... YOUR COMPUTER.

Greatest Movie Lines Ever

Our nation is in dire straits. Dire Straits, the band, have just lost their recording contract. And also, we have a black guy for a president. But times like these bring out our most intellectual queries. And amongst my people, I'm known as the queriest of folk.

You could waste what little of a life you have wondering what could end world hunger, stop world wars, cease world pestilence, and desist world suffrage. Especially amongst the wimmens. P.S. That's pronounced h-wimmens.

But the most important question of all time would have to be, what are the five greatest movie lines of all time?" These are the best things ever said onscreen by humans. Savor the taste, my children, and suckle at mind-teat.

1 "YOU KILLED MY FAVORITE SECOND COUSIN... BIG MISTAKE." Arnold Schwarzeneggar, The Last Action Hero. This sets up one of movie history's greatest revengeances. So many films today feature vengeance in a prominent role, but revengeances are fairly uncommon. Especially when second cousins are involved. You Hollywood fat cats wanna ignore the thirst for revengeance incited by the loss of a second cousin? Big mistake.

2 "TO BE, OR NOT TO BE... NOT TO BE." Arnold Schwarzeneggar, The Last Action Hero. And thus begins the greatest interpretation of Hamlet ever committed to celluloid. Not only is Hamlet not a total emo bitch in this version, but we finally have an answer to the greatest philosophical paradox ever paradixed. Shakespeare, you denied your audience clarity for nearly two hundred years... big mistake.

3 "YOU WANNA BE A FARMER? HERE'S SOME ACRES." Arnold Scwarzeneggar, The Last Action Hero. This line is legend, because not only are you asked a question designed to rattle your soul, but you're given an answer that is humorous on so many levels. On one hand, you're like, 'hey, thanks guy for the acres and such'. But on the other, you're like, 'ouch, my balls', and on your vestigeal third nipple-arm hand, you're like, 'oh, I get it--acres, achers, you kicked me in the balls... you are one witty bastard'. Thank God the dude didn't answer before Arnold kicked him in the coin purse. What sort of line would we have then?
ARNOLD: You wanna be a farmer.
GUY: Well, actually, no.
ARNOLD: Here's some acres...
GUY: Wait, I said no, this makes no *oof* (kicked in the balls)
Somewhat more realistic, I'll admit, but nowhere near as cool. You wanna favor realism over coolness, Hollywood? Big mistake.

4 "I'LL BE BACK... HA! I BET YOU DIDN'T THINK I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT!" Arnold Schwarzeneggar, The Last Action Hero. Alright, you got us, Arnie! You crafty craftsman, you. The wool has literally been pulled over my eyes. But, like a true friend, you hast removed the wool by speaking the truth. Thus quoth the wisemen. No, sir, I didn't think you were going to say that. The only thing that ruins this line is what the kid says afterward. "You always say that." Bitch, cram a tampon in it. If I was Arnold, I would say this every day. I've been elected as Governor of California. I'll be back. Back to rule you! I've just had sex with Maria Shriver. I'll be back. Back to do you! I've just broken into some asshole's house. I'll be back. Bakc to kill you all! Fear me, for I am Arnold, he who walks in darkness!

5 "DAAAAAAMMNNN!!!" Token Black Guy, She's All That. This is very well the greatest film ever made. She's the man? More like 'it's the greatest'. They were originally going to call this film Ali, in a tribute to it being the greatest. But, like all things, this was ruined by a semi-black man. Curse you, Will Smith. Get back to work on Shark Tale 2, the other greatest movie ever made. C'mon... Jack Black and Robert DeNiro as cartoon sharks? YES!!!

I Hate Therapists

I was walking home from school today with my friend 'Vegan', when she told me something funny about Spiderbite. I mean, I already knew Spiderbite was a funny place, because it's logo is a spider. The word 'spider' is in the name, people; do you retards need a visual aid for every cognitive exercise?

Vegan says something to the effect of,'I'm not going to Spider bite anymore. I don't trust them.'

So I bite, and I ask, 'Why's that?'

She says, 'Because my therapist was talking about this client she has who works their, and apparently all they do is smoke pot all day.'

Whoa, whoa, back this gravy train up, sister. You have a therapist? Bitch, we're through here. I've always hated you, but this just takes the cake. Now gimme a pair of your underwear and I'll be on my way.

Therapists are to retards what wheelchairs are to the Jerry's Kids retards. Got a problem, motherfucker? Tell it to my friend from Rome, Fisticus. In fact, why don't you give him a kiss, woman?

Therapists cannot be trusted, as can be seen in the quote above. All they do is talk about their shitty patients. Their supposed to fucking listen, but all they do is babble. Why am I an alcoholic? I don't know. Am I gay? I don't know, asshole. No, I don't have problems with my Mom. Do not put her on speaker phone. Am I really paying forty dollars an hour for this bullshit? If I wanted this, I'd marry a woman and get it for free every day.

Why Are Retards Allowed To Vote?

Hey asswipe, did you vote today? I thought not. Looks like staying at home, eating nachos, and jacking your dog off was a bit more tempting than getting off your greasy ass and doing something with your worthless life. Oh, what's that? You did vote? Since when did we let retards vote?

I was at the booths this morning, when I saw a few things that disturbed me. The first was the shocking number of people in wheelchairs being accompanied by their nurses or what have you into the booths. What the fuck? First of all, why are we letting retards vote? Retards aren't citizens. They're mental invalids, and therefore have no value in our society. Yet we're letting them fucking vote? Well, actually, I see through this plot, you sneaky snakes. Retards cannot vote because they have no cognitive abilities beyond saying their own name and farting at inappropriate and hilarious moments. What they're actually doing is voting a second time for whoever their nurse voted for! Those cheap, lying sacks of shit are getting two votes. I hate RNs, and that has nothing to do with the time a bunch of them videotaped a thermometer going up my ass. They're liars. Lying is only cool when I do it.

I also saw a startling number of Russians, or Bosnians, or Kyrgyzstanis or whatever the hell they are. So now we let foreigners vote? I hate fucking foreigners. First of all, these bald, potato-eating, vodka-swilling Pinkos were babbling to each other in, like, fucking Klingon. Hey, Milosh, you're in America now. Speak American. I'm sick of going to the bank and getting a language option on my ATM. There should only be two language choices: 'English', or 'No'.

Second of all, I could tell these men were terrorists. I heard them say 'Gorbachev', and suddenly, the pieces came together: all those worthless, job-stealing, snow-blowing, ice-back Commies are voting their way into power. Can you imagine a Commie president? I can't, because I'm not Satan. I say kill all Commies. I want all people to go out to their voting places or whatever the fuck they call 'em and wave signs that have this phrase written in blood. Russian blood.

KILL ALL COMMIES!

Guitar Hero: World Tour is a GAME OF LIES!!!

Guitar Hero was once my favorite game. It's hard to imagine that just two years ago, I thought Rock Band was going to be the biggest rip-off since Webster. But now, I see the error of my ways. Guitar Hero: World Tour is a twisted web of lies not fit to be used as a coaster. In every way, Rock Band 2 is superior, and here's how:

GRAPHICS: Why does my randomly generated drummer look like Hulk Hogan? Why do all these people look like they're sixty? Why does an Xbox 360 game made by fucking NeverSoft look this terrible? All these questions and more you will ask, and no one will be there to help you. Rock Band 2 looks semi-plausible. Note: I didn't say realistic. Neither of these two games seem all that concerned with realism. Honestly, if that were the point, what would stop you from just buying a guitar and joining a real band? But at least Rock Band 2 has human-esque characters, as well as real guitars. I know what you're thinking: Guitar Hero has Gibson, the awesomer than Fender, LOL!!1! No, dipshit, they don't. In case you didn't hear, NeverSoft got sued by Gibson after the last Guitar Hero came out, citing the proliferation of images not secured in the clause of their intercompany contractual obligations. Translation: you lose , asswipe.

GAMEPLAY: I hate Guitar Hero peripherals. It's not that they're flawed in terms of design; in many cases they're superior. But NeverSoft is so up it's own ass with the self-righteousness that they seem to think their games should only be played with their peripherals. They even state explicitly on their website that it's a fucking felony to play Guitar Hero with Rock Band instruments, and to play Rock Band with Guitar Hero instruments. Never mind the fact that the mic for Guitar Hero is completely broken, as is the singing engine, or that the drumset looks like a one of those 'ergonomically' superior pieces of shit from Sweden. Guitar Hero should stick with Guitars. Except, wait a minute, they can't even do that right! That whole double-handed slidey thing? Completely pointless. Such a trivial invention can only truly be appreciated from the sidelines, where you see the guy who actually uses the stupid slider piece for what he really is: a douchebag.

Another key element of failure for Guitar Hero is the widely anticipated create-a-track system. Guess what? Doesn't exist. The so-called create-a-track is actually a create-a-shitty-remix that is overly complicated and produces nothing more than what you'd find at the local euro-trash club, just with much less Zima and much, much less date rape. Enjoy creativity, you twats.

SOUNDTRACK: Whilst playing this overpriced cocktease, you may find yourself asking, 'where have I played these songs before?' Oh, nowhere, never, not at all before in your life. Except in Rock Band. It seems that of the eighty-six songs available on-disc for Guitar Hero, twenty-three of them have been featured on Rock Band either on-disc or via DLC. So you're paying over one hundred dollars on a game that looks like shit, has almost the same exact track listing for Rock Band, fucks up it's own peripherals and has no licensed Guitars. Okay, just checking. Have fun sleeping tonight. Maybe you can pour out your sorrow through song on the create-a-track mode. Oh, wait, that's right. I just told you exactly what the hell was wrong with the create-a-track. Silly me.

Why People Hate You

The Beatles once sang, 'love makes the world go 'round'. The Beatles were a bunch of drug-addicted scrotum-lickers that liked to gang-bang Asian art dealers. Love does not make the world go 'round, and fuck you for saying 'round instead of around like a normal human being.

In this kingdom, mine, Hatred reigns supreme. Without hatred, how would we know who to stay the hell away from in a crowded movie theatre? I love to hate. In fact, my dream job would be to go around hating on people. You'd be standing there, drooling like a dolt, when suddenly, I'd pop out of nowhere dressed like Sherlock Holmes. Then I'd look at you, wearing your neon pink fishnets and your denim mini skirt and your awful Tokio Hotel shirt, and I'd say, "you look like clown vomit. Dress like someone who isn't colorblind, why don't you?" Then you'd be like, "thanks, now I can better myself."

You, however, are undoubtedly without this precious service. To that end, I've created a handy list of reasons why people hate you. For the sake of convenience, my notes are arranged racially. Please note I'm not a racist. I hate everyone, irrelevant of race, creed, or color. Also, for the sake of my convenience, the gay community is to be treated as its own race.

BLACKS: You guys talk way to loudly in movie theatres. Also, maybe you should try turning off your goddamn cell phones before the fucking movie starts. And also, do not make cat calls about who in the movie is hot, and who is not. And also don't ask the characters what's going on in a given scene; they can't help you. In fact, why don't you stay away from the movies all together? And no, skinny black kid who is way too rich to be 'from the hood', neither Kanye nor Fiddy are the greatest rapper of all time. That honor goes to Chuck D, motherfucker. Oh, you don't know Chuck D? Well Chuck D knows yo mama's ass like a banana knows a peel, so maybe you should Wikipedia him.

WHITES: Whites are clueless, and they all look alike. They are naturally adept at complaining about very petty manners, and go crazy pretty easily. For example, I was talking to my caucasian friend 'Cracker', when she started telling me about what she did over the weekend.
"My mom turned off my internet because I skipped school, so I banged my fists on the wall of her bedroom until three in the morning, then started screaming at her." Wow, that's not crazy at all. Here's a tiny suggestion that might help with your fucking up problems: stop fucking up. You know exactly how you should behave. Do it or suffer the cosequences. And also, white girls, stop acting black. You're not fooling anyone; we know you pulled that thong up over your ass. Guys can read that shit like a book.

ASIANS: You are bar none the most hated race of all. Why? You people can't shut the fuck up. Back in the day, we used to say that about Mexicans. Back in the day being 2006. What the hell happened? We've had a sudden influx of Asiatic immigrants, and not one among them knows how to speak English. If you're going to stand in the middle of an apartment complex parking lot at two a.m. and start drinking an partying, then speak English, goddamnit! Stop excluding us from your party. Our shoe companies give your children work, you ingracious cunts. Speak English or die.

GAYS: I hate fags. I do not hate homosexuals. Can you tell the difference? A homosexual is someone who has sex with someone of their own gender. That's fine, who you fuck is your business. But when you start rollerblading through the park in a pink tank top and short shorts, shaking your ass in my face and singing the lyrics to every fucking Ricky Martin song, you have officially lost all rights and privileges amongst the rest of society. And Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? Get off the E channel! I know for a fact that many homosexuals are ashamed to share a sexual orientation with these raging stereotypes. Not, not all homosexuals talk like Big Gay Al from South Park, and not all of them will redecorate your house. But when you deliberately choose to start talking like Rupaul, I'm sorry, but you deserve a hate crime. That was a bit out of line, and I take that back. I'm not sorry at all. You deserve to be victimized, faggot.

JEWS: Bill Nie the Science Guy. 'Nuff said, bitches.

CATHOLICS: All Catholic priests are child molesters.

CHRISTIANS: All Christian pastors are liars. Yes, lying kicks ass, but only when I do it.

MORMONS: You're just crybabies. Call yourself whatever the fuck you want; you're Christians.

METHODISTS: Same.

UNITARIANS: Put down the bong.

MUSLIMS: I LOVE ALL MUSLIM PEOPLE. MUSLIMS ARE TO BE TREATED WITH RESPECT. PLEASE DO NOT BLOW ME UP.

I think that covers everyone. If you still have doubts as to why you are hated, please e-mail me. I'll trace your address, come over, and show you exactly why people hate you. Then I'll screw your daughter, grilfriend, wife, sister, or mother. Or maybe all of the above.

Indie Bands, brought to you by MTV

I hate indie music. The genre is in and of itself a sham. You have shaggy hair, where your little sister size 28 jeans and you own twenty fedoras; you're indie. Do you assbags even remember what 'indie' is short for? Indifferent? Indecipherable lyrics? It used to mean 'independent', but guess what?

WHEN MTV PLUGS YOUR ALBUM, YOU ARE NO LONGER INDEPENDENT.

You holes. Fuck you. I hate your smug sense of self-satisfaction, your horrible pubestaches, and your love of male ass. I'm not a homophobe, I'm a homo-... what's the Latin suffix that denotes hatred? I forget. I haven't even touched down on the fact that the music is just terrible. All indie bands sound exactly alike. They rip off the Beatles constantly, and honestly, the Beatles are pretty overrated. What's worse is that they talk about 'rocking out' a lot. Bitch, say what? You don't rock, you blow softly. I mean, I understand it's hard to rock when Megadeth put out an album last year that rocks so hard I'm about to cum. Megadeth rocks, kung fu rocks, Freddy Krueger rocks. Snow Patrol and Coldplay? Not so much.

The only thing worse than indie bands are indie fans. Once, I took my friend 'Fucktard' to the mall to buy some CDs, when we started talking about music. I asked if he liked Metal, which is a pretty easy question to answer. Hint: the answer is 'yes'. Fucktard, being an indie douche, said, 'Sorry, I don't listen to dependent bands'. He said this as a joke, and even laughed to himself for, like, three seconds after. I punched him in the balls, then drove to his Mom's house and had unprotected sex with her. That pretty much made us even.

Another genre that needs to die is the 'alternative' scene. Alternative, indie, emo, or worse 'pop-punk'... it's all the same: shit. Kids, stay away from shit. Shit will ruin your life. Shit almost always contradicts itself in every way. Let us start from the top of this list.

Alternative. Nice name, jackass, considering you aren't alternative at all. All alternative bands sound alike, and they all listen to the same music. They're also all over the radio these days. Here's a new name, gents: comformative. Much more accurate.

Indie? See above, tool.

Emo. Oh, I'm a rich guy who can literally afford any luxury the world has to offer, and who has women thrown at him daily, and who gets free shoes, clothes, housing, cars, and instruments from all my multi-million dollar sponsorship deals, but I'm still from the streets. I know what it's like to feel pain. One time, my mom caught me smoking weed in the basement, and grounded me for a week. Brutal, I know, but I got back at her. I called her a bitch on my latest album. Suck my balls, Pete Wentz.

Pop-punk. This music is offensive. I am deeply offended whenever I see Green Day on TV. Hey, guys, kids are watching. Children may be annoying little shits, but they are the future. Should we really allow these assholes to destroy their consciences, rape their childhood, and fill their brains with subversive Liberal propaganda? But I guess it's the parents choice. Like if a mother buys her child a copy of American Idiot, possibly the worst album of the twenty-first century. That woman has chosen to enrage me, and tacitly, has chosen to taste my fist.

I'd also like to point out that the joke in American Idiot is not about conservatives or the uneducated, so much as it is about Green Day's fanbase. If you think supporting a band that calls their own fans idiots to their faces, in concert, and on their albums is a good idea, then you really are an idiot. Way to prove Green Day right, assmaster.

My Fellow Geniuses

I am a genius. But of course, you already knew this, or else you wouldn't be reading this while crying and/or masturbating. But I know some of you are actually reading this to better yourselves. In the shadows of the night, you pray that someday, the lord will bless you with a fraction of my greatness. Well, as I say to the kids in the Leukemia wing of Dr. Quinn's, keep praying. Maybe God will start giving a shit about you and your diseases if you keep chanting, Paco.

The following people are by no means as great as I am. However, like a retard humping a doorknob, they're trying. Please treat these great achievers with only slightly less respect than you do myself.

FLAVOR FLAV: This man is incredible. Words cannot describe his genius, except this one, which I just invented. 'Me-like'. It was very me-like of you, Flavor Flav, to make literally billions of dollars in record sales by saying your own name in an annoying voice. It was even cooler when you slept with a bunch of sluts at the same time. But did you stop there? Fuck you, you didn't. Rather than stop at sleeping with these whores, you made a reality show out of it and made even more money. My God, you magnificent bastard, shine on.

BILL NIE: This guy is THE MAN. Bill Nie don't take shit from no one. He may well be the smartest man in the world, and he also gets laid pretty frequently because of it. Normally, an old Jew in a bowtie doesn't exactly moisten any g-strings out there, but when your balls are as big as Bill Nie's, you don't take no for an answer. He also showed me the one true scientific formula, X+Y=Z. Here, X+Y equals however much booze plus however much pills it takes to make Z; me getting laid. Thanks for teaching me science, Mr. Nie. If you ever need a kidney, I will steal one for you.

JASON NEWSTED: Sound familiar? Probably not. After the death of that pot-smoking, illegitimate child-having *ahem* 'genius' Cliff Burton, he took up the bass for Metallica. Why so cool? Because he stole all of their money! Metallica sucks donkey dong, and Jason Newsted was the only man with balls enough to put those pussies in their place by embezzling from them and then 'resigning' from the music industry. So what does a guy do after he's retired from recording music? Start a Phish cover band, apparently! Way to go, Newsted! Rob those drunken bastards blind and play hippie music. Sounds like a winning combination.

My TV Show

MTV needs to get off the fucking airwaves now. Have you seen this new show, The Island? It lacks an actual, what's it called? Oh yeah, a POINT. Apparently, like, twenty people are 'stranded' on an island that has a hotel, hot tub, very comfortable beds, and lots of reasonably attractive people that have the mindsets of four-year-olds. In one of the episodes, this guy Johnny gets in a fight with some butterface named Evelyn, and they literally start screaming, 'mine, mine, mine' and pulling each other's hair. Then, they tearfully look into the camera and talk about how the 'game' is getting to them. What game? You're living in the lap of luxury with people that are at least cock-worthy once they get a few beers in them. And that brings me to the game. I don't know exactly how it works, and no one on the show knows either. It doesn't really come up much; three of them play one little 'elimination' game per episode, then vote off one of the two losers. The rest is muy muy bitching. In the end, they wind up on a boat or something and that's how you win. And also, you need keys.

Yes, MTV has a new reality/island game show hybrid. Yes, this is the same sow they've been making forever. And yes, I know exactly how capitalize on this for my own personal gain.

My TV show is called Asshole Island. Basically, I put a bunch of assholes on an island an tell them that the winner will receive five-hundred-thousand lira. Then, I make them play a game a day, and pad the rest of the episode with blurry nightvision shots of two ugly people humping like rabid dogs.

I know what you're thinking: who would put up with all this shit just to be paid in Turkish money? Do you honestly think the muscle-bound douchebaggy date-rapists that populate MTV's prospective reality star pool know what the fuck a lira is? Never mind the fact that almost two-thirds of this money will be lost to taxes. In the end, the winner walks away with ten grand-ish. Depends on how much further the dollar drops.

Sounds a little generic, I know. But here's where I differ from the rest of the pack. The losers don't get voted off: they're eaten! I'd be doing the world a friggin' service via genocide of the retarded. And by 'retarded', I don't mean Jerry's kids. I mean the kids you see walking around at the mall saying shit like, "Man, my parents are retarded. They grounded me like a retard for staying out past curfew and having drunken, unprotected sex with a transvestite hooker, and I'm a huge retard." Yes, you are. I use the r-bomb as much as anyone, but, dude, stop and ask yourself if you aren't the retard before you make such a bold claim.

I also have a few similar ideas called Sex Offender Island, and Illiterate Ethnics Island. I actually can't talk too much about these, however, as they've been sold to Dateline and WB respectively. Sex Offenders would be sort of a rip off of American Gladiators and To Catch A Predator, as the sex offenders would have to go through an obstacle course to get to the sexy young boy at the end of the line, only to meet that queef who does To Catch A Predator. Illiterate Ethnics would be the only half-hour show where 'oh hell no' and 'hey hey hey' are the only words spoken. Ha ha ha... racism.

Bombest Costumes For Halloween

Halloween kicks ass. I love dressing up as a a terrifying, nightmarish ghoul and ruining everyone's good time by getting drunk and arrested, usually in that order. And as I'm gently rocked to sleep in my inmate's arms, I love reflecting on the past day, and enjoying soem poetry before a fortnight. Here's a poem I wrote commemorating Halloween 2006.
Children dressed like Spider-Man
Follow Mom, who has a nice can
I scare off the little shits with a knife I keep handy
And make out with a MILF, then steal all your candy

The key to a successful Halloween is in the costume. I am a genius, and as such, have a responsibility to share with you all my awesome costume ideas. Here's a few that are especially fiendish.

BORING ADULT: Buy a gray flannel suit and hat, then walk around like a zombie in a daze. It may not scare any kids, until you tell them you're really them, ten years into the future. Again, probably won't scare anyone, but here comes the kicker: you carry around a gun, and hold up kids for their candy. That way, you make them feel like in the future, they'll be cool. Falso hope is awesome. Nothing makes me laugh harder than when a child is denied all he ever wished for.

STEPHEN KING: I know what you're thinking: I already told you about the boring adult costume. Well this one's slightly different. You go as a fat, balding, and downright fugly writer of semi-entertaining fiction who spends whole chapters on uncomfortable sex scenes, then read these aloud! This will surely terrify both children and adults. Nothing takes the sexy out of a book like knowing what the writer looks like. Note: there isn't a single hump-worthy writer in the world except J.K. Rowling and, depending on how drunk you are, Maya Angelou.

MICHAEL JACKSON: This one will truly inspire fear in the hearts of tiny, dirty, little fat nubletts. Nobody likes anal rape. It's very dry and uncomfortable for everyone involved. It also inspires very awkward social fauxpas amongst it's victims. You'll just be sitting there, going through her underwear drawer, when suddenly, "I was sexually assaulted on Halloween by a guy dressed as Michael Jackson." Wow, bitch. Really? I've been sitting here for literally hours while you cover your stanky ass with all kinds of smelly perfumes and putting on an elaborately slutty costume, and all you can do is rag me out for my costume choice? Screw you. Rape is hilariously terrifying, and terrifyingly hilarious. And if by strapping a child-sized dummy to my crotch and moonwalking on your front lawn, I inspire terror? So be it.

PENIS MONSTER: If you've never seen small children running away screaming from a man ina giant penis costume, I pity you. It's beautiful. What's even more beautiful is being the guy in the penis suit. God Bless America

My life's golorious emission is to destroy everyone's childhood. If you need any help, call me. I'll spread my emission all over your child. They'll know what pain tastes like when they swallow some of my medicine. There's no escaping me, once I get in your hair. But some people think fear is good for your skin, so I guess I'm doing a solid on you.

Fuck Naruto

When I think of anime, I think of animated adaptations of my favorite mangas, and they never suck too hard. Then again, I stay as far away from shit-manga as possible. Note: shit-manga is very popular these days. It's that kind of manga that involves a nubile male highschool student who is eighteen and still can't talk to women without fumbling his words in an 'I'm so nerdy I'm cute way' meeting a sexy female robot/vampire/alien princess who teaches him how to love and also saves the world from evil robots/vampires/alien queens.

Naruto is the stupidest anime I've seen in a long time. It really takes the cake in making a mediocre manga just terrible. If you don't know what Naruto is, it's the ongoing saga of a young ninja-in-training who also has some sort of demon living inside him. That sounds, at best, unoriginal. When you take that dreadful source material and turn it into a children's television show that features the most annoying catch phrase since 'hi-ho-diggity' from Catdog, you really ought to get an award. This award should be shaped like a big douche.

My main problem with Naruto is that it lies to our children. It inflates their ego by telling them that even if you suffer from a learning disability (the fox-demon is an allegory for ADHD, in case you're retarded) you can grow up to be a serial killer. That's not appropriate for children. Most children nowadays will never amount to anything, let alone someone as famous as a murderer. It also teaches children lies about ninjas. They don't wear bright orange coats and shout 'BELIEVE IT!' at the top of their lungs every three seconds. If a real ninja did that, all the other ninjas would tie him to an flag pole and take turns sodomizing him with their katanas and chucking shuriken at his asscheeks.

Another problem is that it hogs the spotlight from actually good anime. Ever heard of a show called FLCL? It is literally the greatest anime ever made, because it was funny as hell (and not in the 'ooh I'm a girl who falls down the stairs a lot' kind of humor you find in HiHi PuffyAmiYumi)full of violence and sex, and also only six episodes long. It was short, sweet, and to the point. Damn it, respect that.

Dear Cartoon Network,
Naruto sucks shit out of a fat Goth girl's asshole. I want him to die. Get that little faggot ninja off of my television and play some goddamn new episodes of Xavier: Renegade Angel. You never play that show anymore. I love Xavier, he's the man. He walks around, playing a bong-shaped instrument and teaching people how not to suck. That's my life story, dude.
Love,
Spence Fiffield.
P.S. When does the next season of Tim & Eric hit the DVD shelves? That's another kickass show you never play. Maybe if you spent less time canceling all your awesome shows, like Tom Goes To The Mayor, FLCL, Twelve Ounce Mouse, Sealab 2021, Harvey Birdman, Space Ghost, The Brak Show, and The Oblongs, you'd have to worry less and less about what you can do to fill up your daytime schedule, which was craptacular enough without Naruto. And don't even get me started on the diarrhea-stain that is Bo-BoBo BoBoBo-Bo. Ever notice the similarities between that show and Johnny Bravo? I'm sure it's just a coincidence. I mean, the characters don't even look alike : Bo-BoBo's a tall, tan guy in dark shades with big blonde hair in a blue shirt and black pants, but Johnny Bravo's a tall, tan guy in dark shades with big blonde hair in a black shirt and blue pants. No lawsuit there!

Second Life? Try Getting A First One

For the uninitiated, Second Life is perhaps the most addictive game since Pong. You play yourself, living a life that can be whatever you want it to be, in a world where you can go and do anything as long as you have enough money. Sound familiar? That's life, people.

I feel like this game should be played by prisoners in state correctional facilities. Why would anyone willingly play a self-described 'life-simulator' if they still have some semblance of a life to cling to? Y'know what's better than watch two lumps of polygons hump behind a blurred square? Fucking. Trust me on this you stank-breathed virgins.

But I guess the people who play Second Life don't really have a life to speak of. They're the guys who play Yu-Gi-Oh! with kids half their age and still have the balls to do a thoroughly hilarious victory dance when their Rainbow Darkness Dragon stomps Summoned Skull's ass. Quit dancing you punks. Do you understand what you're doing? In life (this one, not the game), you are given a choice : either play card games or be a person that actually matters in the outside world. We all want both, but alas, she is but a dream, sailing on the wings of eternity.

I want to save you all. Put away Second Life, kids. First of all, it's unoriginal. Have you ever played any other PC games? They're all pretty much the same. EverQuest, World of Warcraft, The Sims... it's all the same. Maybe you should pick up an Xbox, dude. Once you frag a twelve-year-old in the back of the head with a rail gun in front of six of the little shit's best friends, you feel invincible.

My other problem with Second Life is that people aren't exploiting it to it's full capabilities. Apparently, some bands and TV shows are suing the game producers for negligence, because people are uploading illegally downloaded songs and images into the game, and then selling them for a profit. Awesome! That sounds like a business venture I could really get behind. The only problem is these people are aiming too low. Just music and TV shows? Why not porn? Porn is the shit. The only thing better than watching porn is selling porn. Let's see; nerds love Second Life, nerds love porn. Say... I've got an idea! It's like the peanut butter in my chocolate thing, except this isn't an allegory for interracial gay sex.

Here's the deal, Second Life. Get off the Interwebs. These are my disciples, not yours, you graphically advanced piece of shit. I want to fight whoever invented this game. Peter Molineux, I'm not sure if this involved you or not, but dammit, you and I are gonna tangle! I am officially calling out Peter Molineux, as well as every man, woman, and child that is related to his production studio, Lion's Head. I will fight you all, drunken boxing style bitches. I;ve literally seen every Jacki Chan movie ever. Think you can take me on? Fear the strike of Spence Fiffield, for soon, on a night as black as Ike Turner, I shall come for you, and there will be no escape!

Old Movies Are As Shitty As The New Ones

I don't know which ivy league Jewess is is the one who prints all those opinion articles in coffeehouse newspapers about how modern movies suck royal dong compared to 'classics' like Gone With The Wind or Valley Of The Dolls . Honestly , new movies and old alike swallow on a regular basis .

It's a common rule of thumb concerning movie aficionados : for every five films that are released worldwide , only one is worth seeing . Now let's say one thousand films are released this year . To this logic , only two hundred are worth seeing all across the globe . Now how many of those films do you think we as Americans watch ? Here's a hint : this year's list won't feature Beverly Hills Chihuahua .

I struggle to think of a decent movie that has come out so far this year , and it's almost November already. Max Payne ? Saw V ? Really ? Batman was pretty good , but Cloverfield ? Jesus H. Christ , that movie had no story at all ! Oh no , an alien is attacking the city ! Good thing I'm a wannabe intellectual hipster who's probably in some shitty band with a name that's an arthouse pun taken from a French film released in 1987 , so I have a camcorder as well as the compulsive need to tape every mundane thing I do with my life . Here's a question : how the fuck did that shitty plastic camcorder and the tape not get crushed by the destroyed overpass or whatever ? Here's a really original idea Hollywood : USE LOGIC !

This is not to say that older movies are better , although I will say that there were a lot less 'Ii am woman , here me roar' films , and a lot less 'I am gay , ain't that cute ?' films . Have you seen Sex & The City ? Dude , when two people on that show were diagnosed with breast cancer at the same time , I thought 'Finally !' . That way , the show could end on a semi-plausible note . Moral of the story ? Whores die of strange diseases . But no , Hollywood's whoring capabilities far outskanks these four sluts . Y'know how the show ended and men everywhere sighed deeply in relief ? Well , let's kick them all in the dick and put out a movie version that ends with the possibility for a sequel . I hate Hollywood .

Remember the original King Kong ? It was like Hollywood had spread their collective cheeks and laid a Cleveland steamer all over America's soul . When I think about great concepts for a movie , I definitely think giant monkey rapist who gets killed by falling off of a damn building . What's worse was the remake . In the original , Kong was supposed to be between ten and twenty feet tall . But in the remake , he's easily four or five stories . What the hell is in the water at Skull Island ? And what was Jack Black doing there ? He should've been hard at work on a sequel to Shark Tale . That was literally the greatest film I've ever seen . Jack Black , Robert De Niro , Will Smith ... you just never see these people humiliate themselves on screen anymore . I mean , Shark Tale was obviously a humorous precursor to the serious social commentary that was Hancock .

But I digress . The worst film ever made has got to be Citizen Kane . Here we have the story of a poor man who works hard and becomes the proud owner of a local newspaper , before accruing wealth via fair business deals , amassing a small fortune , buying out his competitors and dying a lonely death full of regret ? What the fuck ? Why does Hollywood hate capitalism so much ? That's what gets those liberal pigfuckers paid ! Maybe if they put down the Edgar Rice Burroughs and picked up their stock portfolios , they stop crying and start cumming . If I was that rich , no way in fuck would I be donating shit and speaking out against the president . I'd rollin' fly in my souped up Jetta and pickin' up some sweet honeys down at the K-Mart .

My rage has subsided . The time has come to sleep for eight hours , then poop , then sleep some more . Good Night , America . You stay classy .

Fantasy Nerds Suck

You see them everywhere ; short , round , pizza-faced little gnomes who clutter together in the back of the school library and wax idiotic for hours and hours about who would win in a match between Gandalf and Dumbeldore . Then they dissipate , back into the holes they crawled out of , where they start flame wars with each other on shitty message boards populated by literally thousands of retards exactly like them before beating off to a picture of Hermione and passing out in a puddle of slobber .

I hate fantasy nerds so very , very much . I can think of many different groups of people I hate because of their poor decision-making : die-job blondes , Canadians , etc . Fantasy nerds , however , are the only people who seem to be proud of the fact that they are social mongoloids , a cancer for which there is no chemotherapy save death . They walk around with their heads held high , adorning their bumpers with stickers that say , 'Proud Nerd' , or 'Geek Chic' , or 'I Love Frodo In Ways That No Man Should Love A Hobbit' . They are completely ignorant of what exists outside their little shitty microcosm .

In the real world , wearing glasses is enough to infuriate regular people . And you motherfuckers think you can go balls out and wear t-shirts , put up posters and flags , or worse , publish books ? Fuck you ! Get off of my planet , you dice-rolling , Silmarillion-humping , mouth-breathing , glasses-wearing , braces-having , ac- , bac- , and sacne-wielding douchebags .

What needs to be done to correct this problem ? Give the baby it's bottle ; if they want their own fucking world we'll give it to them . How can this be done ? It's an easy , two step process .

STEP 1 : LET ALL NERDS BE EXCOMMUNICATED ! First things first , we find out who'd normal and who's a nerd . This can be discovered through Spence Fiffield's patented Nerd Test . Simply look the subject in the eye and ask them to name five books they've read in the past year . If they say none , shoot them . I have no tolerance for illiterates . If they name any of the banned books , let that one be ostracized for their beliefs !
note : the following books and their respective series are to be blacklisted alongside their readers .
The Lord Of The Rings
The Chronicles of Narnia
Twilight
The Dark Tower
Forgotten Realms
Anything that involves a 'Legend' , or something that belongs to a Dragon .

Also , if the , ahem , 'person' in question answers with a manga or comic book of any kind , they are to be shot on sight alongside the illiterate . Some comics are kick-ass , and even some manga , but dude , they are not books .

STEP 2: 'GIVE IN' TO THEIR DEMANDS ! Somewhere along the line , the nerds will converge and take a stab at sovereignty . We must accomodate them to the farthest extreme we can afford . They ask for a city , we'll give 'em a concentration camp ... I mean , summer camp . They ask for a commune , we'll give 'em a reservation . What we really want is for them to actually ask for something huge , like a state or country . That's when we hit them with the sneak attack . Oh , you want a country ? How about a goddamn planet ?

They should be overjoyed , and will probably celebrate with a good game of Magic : The Gathering . Yeah , go celebrate you fucking losers , while we build a rocket that'll launch you to your new home-world : The fucking sun . We're giving you the best celestial body of them all . The Sun is acting King of Planets until we Earthlings can invent a gun big enough to point at actual planets .

Imagine a world without fantasy nerds . I imagine I'd sleep a lot better , without being kept awake by my mind , ever searching for ways to rid the world of nerds .

Why Vikings Kick Ass

Why do vikings kick so much ass ? Do you ask a man why a fish swims , or why a bird flies ? These things just happen . Vampires just happen to be effeminate waifs , Pirates just happen to spend their entire lives on boats with other men , and Vikings just happen to rock tits .

What sets Vikings apart from the rest of the crowd are their craftsmanship , their spiritual beliefs , and also their beards . Vikings are the only men who can braid their beards and still look cool . One time , Rob Zombie , Gimlee , and the dudes from ZZ Top all braided their beards , and I walked by , and I was like , "who the fuck do you think you are ?"

I guess the most concrete argument one can make from the three I pointed out would be the Viking spirituality . I'm not talking 'ooh , I bought a fifty dollar crystal off of QVC , ain't that special' spirituality . That's for soccer moms and fat Goth chicks who have their heads jammed a good distance up their own asses .

Vikings followed Odin and his crew of buck-wild ballin' muthafuckas . All other Gods , Demi-Gods and *shudder* prophets can suck a fat one ; Odin was the man . Think about it . Literally every other King of the Gods was a pussy . Zeus ? Pussy . Jesus ? Pussy . Quetzacoatl ? A very large feathery pussy . Odin was the exception to the rule .

Odin was the God of all things , like war , beer , blacksmiths , and poetry . You may think poetry was for fags like , y'know , the Greeks , but you'd be wrong . Odin wrote badass poetry , like this :
My balls are so huge
Like a beanbag chair betwixt my
Dinosaur-penis-like legs
It's true ; Odin's sack was the stuff of nightmares . Did you know that in order to gain his high level of badassery he let some old bastard tie him to a tree , beat him like a pinata and then leave him hanging for nine freakin' days ? Then Odin became a God , and he stomped that decrepit fart's black ass like there was no f-ing tomorrow . Ballsy .

Like Odin , Vikings didn't take any shit . They weren't taught 'mercy' , or 'honor' , or 'love' . There was a time to rape and pillage , and then a time to eat and sleep . That was it . They also brought women aboard their boats , unlike pirates who brought condoms .

Vikings were also inventors . Know who discovered the formula for a primitive gunpowder , thus setting the course for cannons , bombs , and all modern warfare ? Vikings , bitch . They knew what time it was .

I see far too many people walking around crackin' wise 'bout Vikings . That's bullshit , man . Vikings are superior to both Pirates and Ninjas , Robots and Zombies , Aliens and Rednecks , Crips and Bloods , Vampires and Werewolves , and all other blank versus blank nerd-fests that populate message boards as of late . No one wants to take on the Vikings . Know why ? Fear .

Yes , Women Are Getting Stupider

Let's play a game . See if you can spot which one doesn't fit .
Maya Angelou
Virginia Woolf
Gertrude Stein
Amy Winehouse

Correct answer ? Maya Angelou . She never got loaded and killed a guy with her car ... yet .

But you also may have spotted Amy Winehouse , who is the only woman on this list under forty , retarded , an alcoholic , and on MTV every fucking second . Let's play another game . See if you can spot the pattern .
Eleanor Roosevelt
Sandra Day O'Connor
Laura Bush
Paris Hilton
The pattern is an obvious one . They arranged in order of age (oldest to youngest) and literacy rate (highest to lowest) . The fact is women are getting stupider . I'm not being a mysoginist here , I'm stating a plain fact . Right now , young women are looking up to Flavor Flav's girlfriend New York and that twiggy bitch from Paramore . Wow , great choice , ladies . And we wonder why standardized test scores are slipping among females in this country .

I've analyzed the data and found a few patterns ; a) role models , and b) birth control . Here are the summaries of each one .

In a 1962 poll of women ages sixten to twenty-one , Time magazine ranked the five most admired women in the world . Amongst them were Mother Theresa and Jacqueline Kennedy , two very respectable women . In 2006 , Time did the same poll again . At the number one spot ?

Lindsay fucking Lohan .

Do you people see the problem ? We need to get ladies away from the televison screen (or at the very least that cess pool known as MTV), and get them into some books . Ever read a book called 'Girl, Interrupted' ? It's written by Susanna Kaysen , and deals with how frequently young women are diagnosed with borderline personalities . Of course , the young women of today will never read this incredible book , because they're too busy reading Twilight . Gay emo vampires making out and delivering monologues before committing suicide ? That sounds ... original .

The other pattern that goes along with the decline of intelligence amongst women is the advent of the pill . The science of birth control has made leaps and bounds in the last fifty years , whereas cognitive abilities have dropped like Monica's airplane . My theory : chemical and hormonal imbalances . Ever read the box on a Nuva ring ? The number of harmful chemicals is mind-boggling . And for something that's supposed to make women's menstrual cycles lighter , there sure are a lot of warnings about spontaneous vaginal bleeding . Wanna know what's unsexy ? A pregnant chick . Even unsexier ? A chick with a bleeding vagina .

So here are my solutions : 1) get MTV off the air ; I can't think of a greater threat to the lost art of reading than Laguna Beach . 2) Require an IQ test before distributing licenses to purchase birth control . There will be no age limitations on these licenses , save for the given state's age of consent . That way , only retards will be given birth control . Women who are 'too smart' will be forced to procreate , thus populating the world with only intelligent babies . I hate babies , but I hate stupid ones even more .

You may be wondering , "what will stop the idiots from procreating as well ?" Boy , you sure ask a lot of stupid questions for a fat chick who reads other people's journals . The answer is Spence Fiffield's patented ugly test . All a guy needs to do to test if a retard lady is worth his penis is compare his woman's face to the ugly chart . Is she as ugly as a she-male ? Ugly as Mo'Nique ? Or ugly as a bucket of rattlesnakes ? All you need to do is hold each chart up to the side of her face . If you can't tell which side is her anymore , you've found your match . And now that you know how ugly your wench is , you will undoubtedly lose your erection and ask her to make you a sandwich . Well done , my good man !

Abortion Is Awesome

Sex is cool . I love showing a chick my huge boner and slamming her ass like a basketball hoop . But you know what kinda sucks about sex ? Kids .

I hate children so very , very much . They think they are so much better than us normal people and that they deserve better treatment . That's bull crap and we all know it , but only I and like , one other dude are actually saying it .

I have a nephew named Alex who is six years old . All he does is bitch , bitch , bitch about how much he hates being a kid . Pretty perceptive for a brainless little mutant , I must say . I mean , if I was six , I'd hate myself too . Anyhoo , he whines at Thanksgiving and Christmas about how he wishes he was treated like an adult and not like a little piece of shit . So last year , after hearing his usual spiel , I grabbed him by the shoulder and elbowed that son-of-a-bitch in the mouth . He falls back crying , screaming 'why'd you do that' over and over . I smiled , stepped on his balls , and said , 'that's how adults are treated when they act like big blubbering vaginas' .

Abortions are awesome . Not only do you get to show off how cool your face looks when you shoot your load , or how great you are at calling a cab , but eight weeks later when the tramp comes sniffin' 'round lookin' fer child see-pote and whatnot , you can have a doctor shove a coat hanger up there and put that little shit on ice .

The only down side I can think of to abortion is that it has somehow become needless spank fodder fro *shudder* Socialists . Some black Presidential candidate (according to some old white guy) wants to put federal funding into clinics that would make women of any means able to abort their wormlings . That's bullshit . I'm not paying extra tax dollars so that Connie Cumdumpster can get knocked up at her fifteenth b-day pawty OMG and then queef out a corpse one trimester later .

Fuck that . I wanna get capitalism back into the game . That's why I'm starting a door-to-door abortion service . I'll drive around in a van that says 'I'll scrape that ass like fat from a fryer' , and pass out pamphlets with a viking on them . There's no funny thing about that ; vikings are just cool .

I figure I just need an apron that has pockets for , like , I dunno , flashlights or trowels or whatever , and a small business loan . So I'm appealing to all the banks in the world . Won't you make the dreams of one man from a small largest city in New Hampshire come true ? I'm good for the money . I mean , this thing ain't free ; I'm chargin' two-hundy a pop for my abortion services . And no , I don't have a medical degree , but who cares ? If these hoes wanna wait for the other door-to-door abortion guy to come , they're more than welcome to .

C'mon Bono , or whoever the hell runs the world bank . Gimme money . Me wantee . You're damning these stupid hatchlings to a life of prostitution and crystal methamphetamines when you could just cut out the middle man and flush them straight to hell . What I'm doing isn't an abomination , it's a mercy kill . Or , more accurately , a mercy vacuum cleaner in the twat .

Musicals That Make My Blood Boil

In the realm of gayness , Musicals rank somewhere between two dudes fucking and watching your dad jerk off . I would rather die of dysentery or rubella than watch a musical . I once punched a six-year-old girl in the face for suggesting a musical for the family to watch . It made the rest of Thanksgiving somewhat awkward , but it put that little bitch in her place .

All musicals belong in a deep pit full of child molesters and vampires in the heart of Death Valley . I never want to see a musical advertised on TV again . If I do , I will murder Ted Danson . You may wonder what he has to do with all this . But he knows ...

These are a handful of the worst musicals ever made . I know , it sounds redundant , as all musicals are horrible . But I'm an optimist , and so I have hope that one day we will have a musical without any singing . Until then , beware these shit fests .

THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. Wow , just what I needed : Nigel Thornberry's balls in my face . Fromunda cheese aside , this movie blows . I love the old fifties B-horror flicks for two reasons ; a) nobody is a transvestite , and b) nobody is a singing transvestite . If you are ever asked if you would like to watch Tim Curry prance around in women's lingerie seducing men for ninety minutes , just say 'no thanks , I don't like male butts' . If you do like male butts , however , I highly recommend this movie !

SWEENEY TODD. I can just imagine the producers meeting on this one .

D-Bag 1: Y'know what's cool ? Killing people and eating them !

D-Bag 2: Yeah ! And also , dancing !

D-Bag 1: I totally agree ! Let's make a musical about killing people ! It'll be awesome , dude !

D-Bag 2: And afterwards , let's have sex !

     Wrong , wrong , wrong . I hate Johnny Depp , and that redheaded bitch , and that guy who played Snape in Harry Potter . I hate them because they raped me of six dollars and two hours of my life . I pray each night that they all get titty and/or dick cancer .

CATS. Ever see two men dancing side-by-side in unitards ? It doesn't feel good . The gayest part about this musical is that not only are men singing , dancing , and dressing up as cats for christ's sake , they're also going out into the audience and shoving their dicks in everyone's faces . I'm sorry , gay boy , but if you wanna roll around with another guy onstage , be my guest . I'll happily excuse myself to the bathroom and throw up for some other reason . Standing on my arm rests and shaking your junk within an inch of my face ? Prepare to die .

RENT. This is the big one . A lot of people (menstruating fourteen-year-olds) think this movie is about friendship and love . Bullshit . It's about homelessness and AIDS . While this is still very much a gay musical , I feel it's actually a step in the right direction for putting morality back in the theatre . The moral of this story ? Pay the rent or get AIDS . Your choice . I'm a good capitalist ; go ahead and check the link for my door-to-door abortion services . Why can't other parts of the gay liberal media be as supportive of the American way of life ? I'm looking at you , Avenue Q . Gay puppets = commies .

SEUSSICAL. Here's a fun idea ; let's all urinate on Theodore Geisel's grave ! No ? Then why not watch this big bowl of gay diarrhea . This is especially offensive , because not only is this one of the most homoerotic spectacles aimed at children since He-Man , but it also pinches off a nice , corn-riddled chocolate dragon on the face of an American genius . Dr. Seuss must be vomiting with rage down in hell .

I would happily list my complaints with all the other ninety-thousand musicals ever written ever , but I have to take a shit , and that usually takes about six to eight hours .