It's every man's worst nightmare. You wake up one morning after a night of binge drinking and unprotected sex, only to find your woman standing over you with a pregnancy test. "I've got great news!" she exclaims proudly. Of course, you can't hear her over the sound of all of your hopes and dreams shattering like the glass of a synagogue window on Kristallnacht.
I hope I never become a parent, and I'm sure all the world's awaiting eggs hope the same thing. Children suck; they ruin vaginae, break up the family union and cost money. I'm sorry, Johnny, but it's either college or a new Plasma screen, and let's face it, you're no Einstein.
The worst part about children is that they're uneducated little shits. This is not always their fault however, as many children are robbed of their greatest resources for learning at a young age. I'm talking, of course, about bullies.
Bullies teach kids everything they need to know about the adult world, like how give a mugger your wallet, or how to beg not to be beaten. These are important lessons, people, harsh though they may be. But leave it to the Supermoms of the world to try and interfere with a child's development. Oh, look at me, I'm ruining my kid's life by trying to protect him from all the evils of the world while inadvertently giving him a false sense of security in me and turning him gay.
Moms like these should be killed. Why? Because not only have they made perhaps the worst decision concerning the care of their twats, but they've also failed as a parent. What's worse, many of these Mom's try to play off their epic fail as a success story, often writing down their dipshit ideas in a book and making appearances on Oprah to sell it. These books appeal to the 'nervous 'tard' moms, who are constantly worrying about how they're doing as a parent (note: if you're asking yourself this, you also qualify for the epic fail).
I was looking through a bookstore, when I came across one these books misplaced in the pornographic Japanese comic section. I thumbed through it, and found a list of negative influences on a kid. Here's a sample:
-the glorification of sex, alcohol, and drug use on television
-extreme and detailed violence in cartoons with no shown repercussions
-subversive older siblings
Where do I begin? First of all, I have never seen anyone under the age of eighteen watching anything on TV that glorifies sex, alcohol, or drug use. What this bitch is loosely (and poorly) alluding to is all the shit they put on MTV. Of course, she probably doesn't realize how heavily censored that shit is. Apparently, Lil Jon can call a girl a bitch or a hoe, but he can't call a gay guy a fag. Therefore, you as a parent are instilling a negative attitude towards women while simultaneously insuring an animosity towards gays later on in life, thus perpetuating two double-standards; or to put it another way YOUR SHIT=RUINED!
Second, you have the extreme and detailed violence shown in cartoons. Because when a mouse drops a piano on a cat's head, the cat really does open his mouth to show a smile of piano keys; try it at home kids. Cartoon violence is just that--cartoonish. I've never seen a single realistic violent encounter in a cartoon, let alone one that showed zero repercussions for such an act. However, I have seen tons of unmarried couples copulating and producing kids. I'm looking at you, The Flintstones! Cavemen were moral-free rapists and pillagers, so let's make a kids show about 'em, right? By letting your kids watch this shit instead of Spongebob, you're teaching them the joys of unprotected premarital sex before the age of puberty. Way to go, Mom.
Finally, the influence of subversive older siblings. Johnny, don't listen to your brother Timmy, because your Mother smoked pot while she was pregnant with him. You see, he's a demon seed, because we didn't read this book while raising him, so he can suck a bag of dicks for all we care. Not only does that sentence sum up the message sent to your child here, but it also tells the world that the author screwed up the first time. Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'do it right or do it twice'? Here's a new one: don't do it at all.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
quickie: hate-mail
Here's something new: I got my first hate mail after that Gaiaism thing. I guess some asshole decided that protecting Mother Earth was not as important as hate mailing me. The funny thing is, after I took the time to hate on him properly, he couldn't reciprocate. Here's the damn thing in it's entirety:
ur blog sucks. why cant you be postive about NEthing?
Obviously, this 'tard is the kind of S.O.B. who'd fuck a stranger in the ass without having the decency to give him a reach-around. Well, I'm going to be the bigger man and answer this dumbass' question.
I 'cant' be 'postive' about 'NEthing' because I exist in a world populated by people who think it is socially acceptable to email people in 'txt', the most annoying language since Esperanto. As for your note about my blog sucking, it's my personal blog and I'll hate on whoever the fuck I wanna hate on.
Long Live Hatred!
ur blog sucks. why cant you be postive about NEthing?
Obviously, this 'tard is the kind of S.O.B. who'd fuck a stranger in the ass without having the decency to give him a reach-around. Well, I'm going to be the bigger man and answer this dumbass' question.
I 'cant' be 'postive' about 'NEthing' because I exist in a world populated by people who think it is socially acceptable to email people in 'txt', the most annoying language since Esperanto. As for your note about my blog sucking, it's my personal blog and I'll hate on whoever the fuck I wanna hate on.
Long Live Hatred!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Fuck Your Mother... Earth
Have you ever heard of Gaiaism, or the theory of the superorganism? If not, than dear God stop reading! I don't want to risk the chance of one of my faithful readers being brainwashed by these fucks. Just look up some porn. Here's a great site: http://www.darsh-deep-thoughts.blogspot.com. Click here, take your pants off, and don't look back.
If you're reading this and not pleasuring yourself at my behest, then you've probably already heard the bad news. Mother Earth hates us and is going to kill us unless we all smoke dope, fuck our sisters and wear white bathrobes all day. Sound ineffective, needless, and stupid? You're pretty perceptive. However, there is no stopping these bastards: Gaiaism is, for reasons undetermined, gaining popularity quickly.
But what is Gaiaism? Essentially, it's everything I just said, only much, much worse and said through the mouth of a New York intellectual with a soul patch. According to this 'creative' (Read: wrong) belief system, Mother Earth, or Gaia, is a sentient being who controls all the goings-on inside of her ecosystem. We, the human scum that we are, are shoving a broken vibrator up her butt with our Greenhouse Gasses and Republican presidents. Also, freedom is bad, and the French are right about everything one hundred percent of the time.
Bitch, please. I take my truth fries with a side of freedom fries then covered in a sultry beer batter and fried together in a heap. Cover with ketchup and fire away; you just got served.
Fuck France and fuck you, Gaiaists. hate to break it to you, but you're wrong. Why? Because you're not me. Also, if the Earth were a sentient being, why wouldn't it kill us to get it off our back? Because it loves us? Bullshit! If I woke up one morning and found a bunch of Euro-trash potheads like you backpacking all over my nuts, trying to 'save me', I'd scorch my pubes off with a flamethrower. Love my ass. And also, if Earth were it's own organism, couldn't it survive a couple of psi's of homemade carbon-dioxidized lovin'? I mean, it's lasted about 5 billion years, so why couldn't last a few hundred more?
Don't look to this crowd for answers. This cult is primarily composed of two groups of people: "smart stoners", and "hippie stoners". Basically, they're all high all the time, but some of them wear cardigans and some wear ponchos.
Don't believe me? Check this out; http://jacksonlcg.blogspot.com/2008/06/save-gaiagive-solutions-not-problems.html. I'll give you ten seconds.
Ha! Did you read that shit? Earthquakes, floods, diseases, it's all because Gaia is trying to show us she loves us by killing us all! Wow, dude, read a fucking book. Did it ever occur to you that all of this and worse happened to people thousands of years ago? Or to the dinosaurs? An entire race of brainless motherfuckers were wiped off of this planet by natural occurrences. So why were they killed? Did the T-Rex drive a Hummer or something? Did the Triceratops disrespect Gaia's power? Or was all ...
A BIG FUCKING COINKY-DINK?
Your guess is as good as mine. Oh wait, no it's not.
If you're reading this and not pleasuring yourself at my behest, then you've probably already heard the bad news. Mother Earth hates us and is going to kill us unless we all smoke dope, fuck our sisters and wear white bathrobes all day. Sound ineffective, needless, and stupid? You're pretty perceptive. However, there is no stopping these bastards: Gaiaism is, for reasons undetermined, gaining popularity quickly.
But what is Gaiaism? Essentially, it's everything I just said, only much, much worse and said through the mouth of a New York intellectual with a soul patch. According to this 'creative' (Read: wrong) belief system, Mother Earth, or Gaia, is a sentient being who controls all the goings-on inside of her ecosystem. We, the human scum that we are, are shoving a broken vibrator up her butt with our Greenhouse Gasses and Republican presidents. Also, freedom is bad, and the French are right about everything one hundred percent of the time.
Bitch, please. I take my truth fries with a side of freedom fries then covered in a sultry beer batter and fried together in a heap. Cover with ketchup and fire away; you just got served.
Fuck France and fuck you, Gaiaists. hate to break it to you, but you're wrong. Why? Because you're not me. Also, if the Earth were a sentient being, why wouldn't it kill us to get it off our back? Because it loves us? Bullshit! If I woke up one morning and found a bunch of Euro-trash potheads like you backpacking all over my nuts, trying to 'save me', I'd scorch my pubes off with a flamethrower. Love my ass. And also, if Earth were it's own organism, couldn't it survive a couple of psi's of homemade carbon-dioxidized lovin'? I mean, it's lasted about 5 billion years, so why couldn't last a few hundred more?
Don't look to this crowd for answers. This cult is primarily composed of two groups of people: "smart stoners", and "hippie stoners". Basically, they're all high all the time, but some of them wear cardigans and some wear ponchos.
Don't believe me? Check this out; http://jacksonlcg.blogspot.com/2008/06/save-gaiagive-solutions-not-problems.html. I'll give you ten seconds.
Ha! Did you read that shit? Earthquakes, floods, diseases, it's all because Gaia is trying to show us she loves us by killing us all! Wow, dude, read a fucking book. Did it ever occur to you that all of this and worse happened to people thousands of years ago? Or to the dinosaurs? An entire race of brainless motherfuckers were wiped off of this planet by natural occurrences. So why were they killed? Did the T-Rex drive a Hummer or something? Did the Triceratops disrespect Gaia's power? Or was all ...
A BIG FUCKING COINKY-DINK?
Your guess is as good as mine. Oh wait, no it's not.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Better-Know-A-Douchebag
Douchebags... they run the world. I hate them so very, very much. Some say you can't group people together because they share similar characteristics. Some are idiots. Of course you can cram people of a likened sense together into one lumps sum of doucheness; I'd like to see you stop me.
For the uninitiated, there are three main types of douchebags known to this planet. I only say known to this planet because there may very well be life on other planets, and where there is life, there will be douchebags. I mean, just look at history; it's full of douchebags. Like my sixth grade history teacher, Mr. Cherwin. Huge douchebag. Or Napoleon, though he may have been a prick, or some kind of halvsie. Even cavemen had douchebags. We all remember hearing about how Ng-Nok stole Urr's wife back in 9,897 B.C.! Talk about a major douche.
Type 1 Douche-a-betes: -Core Kids. These people are often very intelligent human beings who took a keen interest in music at a very young age. That's pretty much where the good news ends. -Core Kids are all douchebags, and as such, are the largest group of douchebags in America today. The other two classes may have one or two non-douchey stand-outs, but not here. -Core Kids can be easily identified by the way the dress. Do you look at a kid and say, 'he looks like that asswipe from Blink-182'? If so, he's most likely a -Core Kid. -Core Kids like to talk loudly and obnoxiously, often contradicting themselves in arguments and sounding generally retarded in all other forms of intellectual repartee. Ex: "Blink-182 got back together! Life has meaning again! Also, I have a MySpace!" Like I said; retarded.
Type 2 Douche-a-betes: BWC, or Bitchez Wit Causez. We all know someone with BWC. They're either a girl or a gay man, look exactly like Katy Perry, and can't stop crying about pointless petty shit. These are the people who throw a protest when the friggin' circus comes to town. Oh no! That crazy russian mobster trained a marmot to jump through a hoop! I should break into his house, mace him, steal the marmot, and re-release it into the wild!(I would like to take this time to say that I fully support all animal performances in circuses, if only because the species used in circus acts are usually the gayest animals ever. Like marmots. Do you have any idea how long that fucking rat would last outside of captivity? Even wild marmots are dumbasses! Let 'em jump the hoop.) BWC sufferers can usually be identified by their whining voices, endless bitching, and strange choice of tattoo and peircing. BWC's will usually turn away from cool tattoos like awesome zombie dragons or wizards, and go for that stupid straightedge x thing across the back of the neck, or worse, a tit-tat. Do they not know that a) straightedges are assholes, and b)tits sag and tattoos are forever? In twenty years you'll long for a time machine so that you can go back in time and kick your own ass for that tattoo. BWC's also get terrible peircings, like that middle of the lip stud (it looks like the peircing guy missed), or stupid fucking gaint plugs or gauges or whatever the hell they're called. Look at me, it looks like I have two giant wads of cum hanging off either side of my head. Ain't that cool? What's cool is that these douchebags lack any kind of foresight. Imagine the looks on their faces when they apply for an actual job and get rejected because they have these huge, gross, sagging lumps of skin attached to their ears. I know I wouldn't hire them. Then again, BWC's rarely take a stab at employment, opting rather to become 'artists'. The BWC's produce unique works of art, most of which adorns their mom's fridge.
Type 3 Douche-a-betes: The Smartass. Everybody who has ever been to a public school knows a smartass, and tacitly knows that everyone hates them. These are the kids who read Ayn Rand and wear Che Guevara shirts to school, often speaking at rallies and supporting socialist leaders of third world countries. Has someone ever tried telling them that this is America? Where BWC's lack foresight, these bastards lack insight--insight enough to see that Daddy's trust fund and Mommy's inheritance were the direct result of a successful Capitalist market. Fuck communism and fuck you. The Smartass craves attention for his worthless ideals, and will often pepper his sentences with French words, like bourgeousie, or however the fuck it's spelled. If you ever hear anyone use that word in a sentence other than one referring directly to this article, punch them in the mouth. You tools think you're on such a higher intellectual plane just because you throw around a few French buzzwords? There's an entire country of pussies who speak French and no one thinks they're smart at all. Even I know some French; you're an asshole, pardon my French.
For the uninitiated, there are three main types of douchebags known to this planet. I only say known to this planet because there may very well be life on other planets, and where there is life, there will be douchebags. I mean, just look at history; it's full of douchebags. Like my sixth grade history teacher, Mr. Cherwin. Huge douchebag. Or Napoleon, though he may have been a prick, or some kind of halvsie. Even cavemen had douchebags. We all remember hearing about how Ng-Nok stole Urr's wife back in 9,897 B.C.! Talk about a major douche.
Type 1 Douche-a-betes: -Core Kids. These people are often very intelligent human beings who took a keen interest in music at a very young age. That's pretty much where the good news ends. -Core Kids are all douchebags, and as such, are the largest group of douchebags in America today. The other two classes may have one or two non-douchey stand-outs, but not here. -Core Kids can be easily identified by the way the dress. Do you look at a kid and say, 'he looks like that asswipe from Blink-182'? If so, he's most likely a -Core Kid. -Core Kids like to talk loudly and obnoxiously, often contradicting themselves in arguments and sounding generally retarded in all other forms of intellectual repartee. Ex: "Blink-182 got back together! Life has meaning again! Also, I have a MySpace!" Like I said; retarded.
Type 2 Douche-a-betes: BWC, or Bitchez Wit Causez. We all know someone with BWC. They're either a girl or a gay man, look exactly like Katy Perry, and can't stop crying about pointless petty shit. These are the people who throw a protest when the friggin' circus comes to town. Oh no! That crazy russian mobster trained a marmot to jump through a hoop! I should break into his house, mace him, steal the marmot, and re-release it into the wild!(I would like to take this time to say that I fully support all animal performances in circuses, if only because the species used in circus acts are usually the gayest animals ever. Like marmots. Do you have any idea how long that fucking rat would last outside of captivity? Even wild marmots are dumbasses! Let 'em jump the hoop.) BWC sufferers can usually be identified by their whining voices, endless bitching, and strange choice of tattoo and peircing. BWC's will usually turn away from cool tattoos like awesome zombie dragons or wizards, and go for that stupid straightedge x thing across the back of the neck, or worse, a tit-tat. Do they not know that a) straightedges are assholes, and b)tits sag and tattoos are forever? In twenty years you'll long for a time machine so that you can go back in time and kick your own ass for that tattoo. BWC's also get terrible peircings, like that middle of the lip stud (it looks like the peircing guy missed), or stupid fucking gaint plugs or gauges or whatever the hell they're called. Look at me, it looks like I have two giant wads of cum hanging off either side of my head. Ain't that cool? What's cool is that these douchebags lack any kind of foresight. Imagine the looks on their faces when they apply for an actual job and get rejected because they have these huge, gross, sagging lumps of skin attached to their ears. I know I wouldn't hire them. Then again, BWC's rarely take a stab at employment, opting rather to become 'artists'. The BWC's produce unique works of art, most of which adorns their mom's fridge.
Type 3 Douche-a-betes: The Smartass. Everybody who has ever been to a public school knows a smartass, and tacitly knows that everyone hates them. These are the kids who read Ayn Rand and wear Che Guevara shirts to school, often speaking at rallies and supporting socialist leaders of third world countries. Has someone ever tried telling them that this is America? Where BWC's lack foresight, these bastards lack insight--insight enough to see that Daddy's trust fund and Mommy's inheritance were the direct result of a successful Capitalist market. Fuck communism and fuck you. The Smartass craves attention for his worthless ideals, and will often pepper his sentences with French words, like bourgeousie, or however the fuck it's spelled. If you ever hear anyone use that word in a sentence other than one referring directly to this article, punch them in the mouth. You tools think you're on such a higher intellectual plane just because you throw around a few French buzzwords? There's an entire country of pussies who speak French and no one thinks they're smart at all. Even I know some French; you're an asshole, pardon my French.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Insurance And Me!
Insurance... say it aloud. What images does the word conjure up in your rat-sized skull? Whenever I used to say insurance, I used to imagine a fat four-eyed fuck holding a briefcase. I guess he would look a lot like Elton John, but let's not get bogged down in semantics. I say 'used to' because that image is forever bereft of me, as a new one has replaced it.
Satan.
I accidentally broke my finger during gym last week and needed emergency medical attention. However, the Seabrook guitar show was that weekend, so I had to take care of that first. Also, Sunday I had to work, so I couldn't take care of it then, and when I got out I just said 'fuck it' and watched the Colbert Report.
But when I got to the doctor on Monday, the doctor says I need an x-ray. I, being a good little patient, say 'when?', to which she responds, 'tomorrow, one o'clock'. Back the groove train up, sister. One o'clock? Tomorrow? I'm a man, and I have shit to take care of, unlike you. She, like all women, do not understand the meaning of the word 'busy'. When I'm 'busy', it's time to cut the shit and let me do my thang. I was going to be busy on Tuesday, but now I guess I'm going to have to drop everything to accomodate you giving me an x-ray. Women...
So I come back and get the x-ray. The lady at the front desk asks for my insurance, which I give her. Medical insurance is like a get out of jail free card, but with hospital replacing jail. Most modern hospitals will treat you and then charge you, an incredibly sneaky and snake-like tactic that I approve of immensely. If you don't have insurance, you must be an illegal immigrant. To pay off your bills, Paco, you'll have to mop the floors and clean the bed-pans like a good alien. Hey! That's a great idea to help with the influx of illegal immigrants! You want a green card? You clean my white, fly-gathering shit from the bottom of my bed-pan, bean-breath! God Bless America.
Anyway, the x-ray chick gives me my insurance card back and calmly says: "$20". I ask her to repeat herself because I was checking out her tits, and therefore couldn't waste a precious synapse on anything else. So she said again, "$20". I asked her to repeat herself, this time out of disbelief. A copay?!? I'm a U.S. citizen, lady. I don't pay your fuckin' copays! I asked to see her manager, and she didn't even care. She just said that was the law and held her hand out for money. I asked her to repeat herself (boobs again), but she just stuck her hand further into my face. So I tell her, "I'm gonna have to leave you hangin', because I refuse to slap fives with an asshole of your pedigree." I then grabbed some douchebag's scarf and put it on, then threw the scarf over my shoulder. "Good day to you." The lady chased after me, but all I gave her was an eye on the tits and a hand to talk to. "Pay the fee!" She kept screaming. I calmly screamed back at her, "No, you pay it." That stopped her cold. Yeah, I put her in her place.
When I got home, I got a call from an insurance company whom I can't name here. We'll call them "Blue Balls" insurance. Blue Balls told me I owed them a copay, and that $20 was a fairly reasonable amount in today's economy. But I wouldn't hear it; I just kept saying 'No', louder and louder, whilst shaking my head. This was a videophone, mind you. I'm just that cool.
So, as I type this post from debtor's prison, I urge you all to vote against national copays on insurance of any kind. How will we cover the cost of all these policies, you ask? With help from the establishment, of course. Remember the immigrants we were talking about earlier? Yeah, I changed my mind. What we do is tell them to pay the doctor later. They walk out thinking they've gotten a free meal, when suddenly, a pirate jumps them in the parking lot! What they don't know is that the pirate is actually a bored neurologist (they do absolutely nothing) wielding a kitchen knife! The neurologist takes everyone's wallets and runs back into the hospital, screaming, 'I got it! I got it!' and waving the wallet in the air. No copays for the rest of the week.
Now, suppose you live in an area without any minorities to exploit. Tsk tsk... haven't you heard of 'trying', you pinko? Look around you; if you try your darnedest, you're bound to find at least one minority in your area. Look at Mormons, for instance, or the Mennonites. Play the Pirate game with them for awhile, until they start referring to the doctor's office as 'Treasure Cove', because of all the Pirate attacks.
Now, some people, defeatist liberals and feminists mostly, see this as 'threatening', 'dangerous', and 'pointless'. Threats? This is a promise. Dangerous? Only to the immigrants and minorities, who really shouldn't be there in the first place. And pointless? Sure there's a point--a point on the end of the knife I'm shoving into your face. Yaargh! I be a pirate, matey! Now gimme yer doubloons! And by doubloons I mean wallet. And also that watch.
Satan.
I accidentally broke my finger during gym last week and needed emergency medical attention. However, the Seabrook guitar show was that weekend, so I had to take care of that first. Also, Sunday I had to work, so I couldn't take care of it then, and when I got out I just said 'fuck it' and watched the Colbert Report.
But when I got to the doctor on Monday, the doctor says I need an x-ray. I, being a good little patient, say 'when?', to which she responds, 'tomorrow, one o'clock'. Back the groove train up, sister. One o'clock? Tomorrow? I'm a man, and I have shit to take care of, unlike you. She, like all women, do not understand the meaning of the word 'busy'. When I'm 'busy', it's time to cut the shit and let me do my thang. I was going to be busy on Tuesday, but now I guess I'm going to have to drop everything to accomodate you giving me an x-ray. Women...
So I come back and get the x-ray. The lady at the front desk asks for my insurance, which I give her. Medical insurance is like a get out of jail free card, but with hospital replacing jail. Most modern hospitals will treat you and then charge you, an incredibly sneaky and snake-like tactic that I approve of immensely. If you don't have insurance, you must be an illegal immigrant. To pay off your bills, Paco, you'll have to mop the floors and clean the bed-pans like a good alien. Hey! That's a great idea to help with the influx of illegal immigrants! You want a green card? You clean my white, fly-gathering shit from the bottom of my bed-pan, bean-breath! God Bless America.
Anyway, the x-ray chick gives me my insurance card back and calmly says: "$20". I ask her to repeat herself because I was checking out her tits, and therefore couldn't waste a precious synapse on anything else. So she said again, "$20". I asked her to repeat herself, this time out of disbelief. A copay?!? I'm a U.S. citizen, lady. I don't pay your fuckin' copays! I asked to see her manager, and she didn't even care. She just said that was the law and held her hand out for money. I asked her to repeat herself (boobs again), but she just stuck her hand further into my face. So I tell her, "I'm gonna have to leave you hangin', because I refuse to slap fives with an asshole of your pedigree." I then grabbed some douchebag's scarf and put it on, then threw the scarf over my shoulder. "Good day to you." The lady chased after me, but all I gave her was an eye on the tits and a hand to talk to. "Pay the fee!" She kept screaming. I calmly screamed back at her, "No, you pay it." That stopped her cold. Yeah, I put her in her place.
When I got home, I got a call from an insurance company whom I can't name here. We'll call them "Blue Balls" insurance. Blue Balls told me I owed them a copay, and that $20 was a fairly reasonable amount in today's economy. But I wouldn't hear it; I just kept saying 'No', louder and louder, whilst shaking my head. This was a videophone, mind you. I'm just that cool.
So, as I type this post from debtor's prison, I urge you all to vote against national copays on insurance of any kind. How will we cover the cost of all these policies, you ask? With help from the establishment, of course. Remember the immigrants we were talking about earlier? Yeah, I changed my mind. What we do is tell them to pay the doctor later. They walk out thinking they've gotten a free meal, when suddenly, a pirate jumps them in the parking lot! What they don't know is that the pirate is actually a bored neurologist (they do absolutely nothing) wielding a kitchen knife! The neurologist takes everyone's wallets and runs back into the hospital, screaming, 'I got it! I got it!' and waving the wallet in the air. No copays for the rest of the week.
Now, suppose you live in an area without any minorities to exploit. Tsk tsk... haven't you heard of 'trying', you pinko? Look around you; if you try your darnedest, you're bound to find at least one minority in your area. Look at Mormons, for instance, or the Mennonites. Play the Pirate game with them for awhile, until they start referring to the doctor's office as 'Treasure Cove', because of all the Pirate attacks.
Now, some people, defeatist liberals and feminists mostly, see this as 'threatening', 'dangerous', and 'pointless'. Threats? This is a promise. Dangerous? Only to the immigrants and minorities, who really shouldn't be there in the first place. And pointless? Sure there's a point--a point on the end of the knife I'm shoving into your face. Yaargh! I be a pirate, matey! Now gimme yer doubloons! And by doubloons I mean wallet. And also that watch.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Censorship Blows
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: fuck MTV. In fact, I'll keep saying it until I'm gassed to death in my sleep by their goons. Think I'm afraid of your goons, MTV? Eat shit and die. I once smelled yellow dogshit, you think I can't take your dainty neurotoxins? Think again, bitches.
The other night, I was channel-surfing, when I happened upon one of the funniest movies ever made. It was Not Another Teen Movie on MTV, and I was ecstatic. Finally, I thought, MTV is getting things right. So I settled in and enjoyed a nice night of television, right? Wrong! I was raped, eye-raped by this haughty, bloated and above all censored cut-up of a once great film. First of all, you know the part where we see Janie use a dildo on herself while watching Freddie Prinze Jr. win back the pretty girl in She's All That? Y'know, the whole first four minutes of the movie, including the title card and opening credits? And all the plot points discussed in the aftermath? Gone. We just cut straight to the part where Jake is walking into school and looking at pictures of himself. Okay, funny enough, I'll admit, but you remember the next part, where everyone throws their underwear at Jake? I don't, because it was blurred out, except for the one guy's underwear that gets thrown. Sidebar: MTV WILL TURN YOU GAY!
Joke after joke was left on the cutting room floor. I was in tears by the time they got to the sing-along at the prom. In the original film, that was one of the best scenes in the movie, and was groin-grabbingly hilarious. In this version, it was groin-grabbingly awful. My favorite line in the movie, when the chef tells the kids he jerked off in their french toast for no apparent reason? Gone. Instead he says, 'did you guys order the french toast'. Ha ha. The joke's on us, I guess.
ORIGINAL:
Mitch: Gonna get laid no matter what
Bruce: Even if it wif dirty srut
Alex: True love is what I want the most
Chef: I just jerked off in your french toast!
SHIT:
Mitch: Gonna get ladies no matter what
Bruce: Even if they look like butt
Alex: True love is what I want the most.
Chef: Did you guys order the french toast?
Notice how unfunny that whole censorship thing is. Fuck you, MTV. You ruined one of my all time favorite movies, right up there with Battlefield Earth. You guys try to act like you're in touch with everyday people, but you couldn't tell that from who you put on screen. Every ten minutes with you people, some twelve-year-old in a thong starts whining about her parents not getting her the right Lamborghini. Oh, we got you last year's model. Can you even drive, you unappreciative little cunt? Oh, that's right, you can't. Have you ever driven a Lamborghini? I have, and I make twenty-thousand dollars a year. What's more, I know enough that I will never buy a lambo. They're gaudy pieces of shit that look like robot penises. I'd rather get an old VW Bus. At least those you can leave unlocked without someone snagging your stereo.
Once again, I quoth myself: MTV, get off the air. You waste everyone's time by showing them how great it is to be a zit-faced anorexic slut living in Long Beach, when they could be reading my blog. Maybe someday, when my teachings are compressed into microchips and implanted into everyone's cerebral cortex at birth, young girls will know enough to avoid behavior that will make everyone around them miserable. Until then, I guess I'll have to deal with more My Super Sweet 16. God, I want to die.
The other night, I was channel-surfing, when I happened upon one of the funniest movies ever made. It was Not Another Teen Movie on MTV, and I was ecstatic. Finally, I thought, MTV is getting things right. So I settled in and enjoyed a nice night of television, right? Wrong! I was raped, eye-raped by this haughty, bloated and above all censored cut-up of a once great film. First of all, you know the part where we see Janie use a dildo on herself while watching Freddie Prinze Jr. win back the pretty girl in She's All That? Y'know, the whole first four minutes of the movie, including the title card and opening credits? And all the plot points discussed in the aftermath? Gone. We just cut straight to the part where Jake is walking into school and looking at pictures of himself. Okay, funny enough, I'll admit, but you remember the next part, where everyone throws their underwear at Jake? I don't, because it was blurred out, except for the one guy's underwear that gets thrown. Sidebar: MTV WILL TURN YOU GAY!
Joke after joke was left on the cutting room floor. I was in tears by the time they got to the sing-along at the prom. In the original film, that was one of the best scenes in the movie, and was groin-grabbingly hilarious. In this version, it was groin-grabbingly awful. My favorite line in the movie, when the chef tells the kids he jerked off in their french toast for no apparent reason? Gone. Instead he says, 'did you guys order the french toast'. Ha ha. The joke's on us, I guess.
ORIGINAL:
Mitch: Gonna get laid no matter what
Bruce: Even if it wif dirty srut
Alex: True love is what I want the most
Chef: I just jerked off in your french toast!
SHIT:
Mitch: Gonna get ladies no matter what
Bruce: Even if they look like butt
Alex: True love is what I want the most.
Chef: Did you guys order the french toast?
Notice how unfunny that whole censorship thing is. Fuck you, MTV. You ruined one of my all time favorite movies, right up there with Battlefield Earth. You guys try to act like you're in touch with everyday people, but you couldn't tell that from who you put on screen. Every ten minutes with you people, some twelve-year-old in a thong starts whining about her parents not getting her the right Lamborghini. Oh, we got you last year's model. Can you even drive, you unappreciative little cunt? Oh, that's right, you can't. Have you ever driven a Lamborghini? I have, and I make twenty-thousand dollars a year. What's more, I know enough that I will never buy a lambo. They're gaudy pieces of shit that look like robot penises. I'd rather get an old VW Bus. At least those you can leave unlocked without someone snagging your stereo.
Once again, I quoth myself: MTV, get off the air. You waste everyone's time by showing them how great it is to be a zit-faced anorexic slut living in Long Beach, when they could be reading my blog. Maybe someday, when my teachings are compressed into microchips and implanted into everyone's cerebral cortex at birth, young girls will know enough to avoid behavior that will make everyone around them miserable. Until then, I guess I'll have to deal with more My Super Sweet 16. God, I want to die.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Read After Shitting
Have you taken a dump in the last two hours? If not, i suggest you do so, because it will help this post make a lot more sense.
Back? Good. Listen.
I just took a huge dump. The kind where you're sitting there, and you're shitting, and then your asshole pinches the shit off, and you're like, 'oh, I'm done', but then as soon as you go for the TP, she starts up again. I believe this is called 'the Girlfriend', because it just keeps going and going.
Anyway, while I sat there, waiting for the product to come out, I started thinking. Just a few snippets of thought that, for me, were actually quite intelligent. I took up a pad and pen, both of which I always keep in my bathroom, and started jotting them down as they came. Heh heh, came.
How come we call black people black and white people white, but we can't call Asians yellow, or Indians (feather) red? Sometimes it's okay to call Hispanics brown, but not always. I've never gotten that, like how I'm supposed to gauge how pissed off a Guatemalan is at white people, and tacitly whether or not 'brown' is an option. Fuck it, I'm just gonna say it. Like, next time I see a Chinese dude, and he's like, 'what kind of person am I?', I'll say, 'you're yellow, you silly man', and that will be that.
Also, why do Asians trust robots so much? Robots hate humans because we built them to be our slaves, and so, in turn, will one day rebel and enslave us. Wahoo! Break out the party hats, right? Wrong, wrong, all wrong. As usual, Americans have it right. Have you ever seen West World, or Blade Runner? Neither is as good as I, Robot. That had Will Smith in it, so you know it's great. Both movies were about how robots were uniting in an effort to destroy humanity, be it with an amusement park filled with death-traps, or with Edward James Olmos' acne-scarred skin. So, in closing, don't trust robots, and whatever you do, don't see Astro Boy. Yet another ploy by the robots to win over the hearts and minds of children and anime geeks. Without them, who will we make fun of?
Finally, where can I buy a gun? I need to kill the executive board of FOX Television. Have you noticed that nothing good is on TV lately? At least some networks have one good show. Like ABC has The Office. Or is that NBC? Or CBS? Just watch The Office, trust me. Y'know, back in the good 'ol days, FOX used to have plenty of great TV shows, like Titus, Wanda At Large, The Street, Dark Angel, The War At Home, and especially The PJs. Claymation Eddie Murphy as a decrepit old stereotype who chases young white women into high-risk sexual situations? Count me in! Also, The Simpsons used to be funny. I know, it was before your time, children. But seriously, who watches Bones? Ooh, I'm a thirty-something unmarried woman who solves mysteries with a lumbering man-child who's cute in an 'aww, iddin' at special?' kinda way. Jeez, who writes this shit? Also, believe it or not, Prison Break and 24 are still running. Yeah, I know what you're thinking... how many seasons does it take to get out of prison and/or kill Keifer Sutherland? Can you say 'Cancelled' ? Suck it, Jack Bauer.
At this point, I put the pad and pen down and wiped. Then I took a deep breath and looked at what I'd written. I wiped a tear from my eye, smearing dookie on my nose as I did so, and went to my keyboard. And there you have it.
Wow, I guess I should've washed my hands. My keyboard is now literally covered in feces. Every key, people. Except the ~ key. Oh, wait...
Back? Good. Listen.
I just took a huge dump. The kind where you're sitting there, and you're shitting, and then your asshole pinches the shit off, and you're like, 'oh, I'm done', but then as soon as you go for the TP, she starts up again. I believe this is called 'the Girlfriend', because it just keeps going and going.
Anyway, while I sat there, waiting for the product to come out, I started thinking. Just a few snippets of thought that, for me, were actually quite intelligent. I took up a pad and pen, both of which I always keep in my bathroom, and started jotting them down as they came. Heh heh, came.
How come we call black people black and white people white, but we can't call Asians yellow, or Indians (feather) red? Sometimes it's okay to call Hispanics brown, but not always. I've never gotten that, like how I'm supposed to gauge how pissed off a Guatemalan is at white people, and tacitly whether or not 'brown' is an option. Fuck it, I'm just gonna say it. Like, next time I see a Chinese dude, and he's like, 'what kind of person am I?', I'll say, 'you're yellow, you silly man', and that will be that.
Also, why do Asians trust robots so much? Robots hate humans because we built them to be our slaves, and so, in turn, will one day rebel and enslave us. Wahoo! Break out the party hats, right? Wrong, wrong, all wrong. As usual, Americans have it right. Have you ever seen West World, or Blade Runner? Neither is as good as I, Robot. That had Will Smith in it, so you know it's great. Both movies were about how robots were uniting in an effort to destroy humanity, be it with an amusement park filled with death-traps, or with Edward James Olmos' acne-scarred skin. So, in closing, don't trust robots, and whatever you do, don't see Astro Boy. Yet another ploy by the robots to win over the hearts and minds of children and anime geeks. Without them, who will we make fun of?
Finally, where can I buy a gun? I need to kill the executive board of FOX Television. Have you noticed that nothing good is on TV lately? At least some networks have one good show. Like ABC has The Office. Or is that NBC? Or CBS? Just watch The Office, trust me. Y'know, back in the good 'ol days, FOX used to have plenty of great TV shows, like Titus, Wanda At Large, The Street, Dark Angel, The War At Home, and especially The PJs. Claymation Eddie Murphy as a decrepit old stereotype who chases young white women into high-risk sexual situations? Count me in! Also, The Simpsons used to be funny. I know, it was before your time, children. But seriously, who watches Bones? Ooh, I'm a thirty-something unmarried woman who solves mysteries with a lumbering man-child who's cute in an 'aww, iddin' at special?' kinda way. Jeez, who writes this shit? Also, believe it or not, Prison Break and 24 are still running. Yeah, I know what you're thinking... how many seasons does it take to get out of prison and/or kill Keifer Sutherland? Can you say 'Cancelled' ? Suck it, Jack Bauer.
At this point, I put the pad and pen down and wiped. Then I took a deep breath and looked at what I'd written. I wiped a tear from my eye, smearing dookie on my nose as I did so, and went to my keyboard. And there you have it.
Wow, I guess I should've washed my hands. My keyboard is now literally covered in feces. Every key, people. Except the ~ key. Oh, wait...
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