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.