The True Story of Thanksgiving
Current mood: thankful

There has been plenty written about the first Thanksgiving. Seriously, read a book once in a while and you'll see. It was great because there had been a good harvest. The white man taught the Indians how to turn corn into whiskey, and they taught the white man how to smoke dope and turn birch tree bark into primitive LSD. But it was always meant to be a one time thing.

But the Indians had other ideas. They started to show up every year. While initially finding the Indians amusing with their clown make-up, flamboyant headbands, and leather diapers, the white man now realized they were just a bunch of dirty hippies, sitting around looking for a handout.

Even worse, while the white man just wanted to sit around and watch football on Thanksgiving; the Indians all wanted to play lacrosse. The Pilgrims knew lacrosse was a godless, heathen activity and they thought it looked really gay.

True, the white men liked nailing the Indian princesses. They were really dirty, and you could generally have your choice for just a few beads or some shiny buttons. And even when you convert that to today's prices; banging a chick for 50 buttons is still a pretty good deal.

But the Pilgrims had plenty of farm animals to bugger and they liked to drill holes in pumpkins when they needed immediate sexual gratification. When their wives found the pumpkins with the holes drilled in them they told them they were 'jack-o-lanterns' and created a whole phony 'Halloween' tradition to explain them away. So, the Pilgrims decided to try and make a clean break with the natives.

They hatched a plan. They would cook up all of the worst shit and feed it to the Indians. Cook up turkey, which they knew would be dry. Then stuff it with old, stale bread. Make a sauce out of cranberries which are the nastiest, sourest fruit. And they would take all of the jack-o-lanterns (yes, those jack-o-lanterns) that had been lying around in the sun for a month and make them into pies.

Needless to say it didn't go well. Everyone was pissed and the Indians sulked around afterwards. Even though they had enjoyed the pumpkin pie, they didn't even stay to try and find the afikomen.

"If it's so much trouble to cook dinner for us," the Indians said "Next year, why not just make reservations some place?"

Well, the white men loved the idea of making reservations for the Indians.
It took a couple hundred years for the white man to get around to making all of them, but soon they stretched across the country and they seemed to work like a charm. Even the Indians admit dealing blackjack beats dancing to try and make rain. Plus, they're all pretty numb from the boozing.

I can't believe Indian's still take part in Thanksgiving Day parades, and in full traditional outfits no less. It always seems to me like Jews taking part in a celebration of Hitler's birthday and dressing up in concentration camp outfits.

Now, Americans love Thanksgiving, because now, we don't have to invite Indians over our houses. Plus, it's another reason to stuff our rich, fat, American faces. It's not just another excuse to over eat, it's almost mandatory. If you don't eat until you're bursting on Thanksgiving, you might as well wipe your ass with the American flag and then strangle your mother with it while you sodomize her. And I know a lot of you are thinking, "wipe your ass with the American flag and sodomize your mother? Isn't that how they celebrate Ramadan?" All I can say to that is I'm not sure. In my house all we celebrate is something I like to call, 'Hot Sexual Kwanzaa'.

Currently listening : Dirt By Alice in Chains Release date: 1992-09-29

7:11 PM - 37 Comments - 30 Kudos - Add Comment

You don’t know what I like to do....
Current mood: Faptastic

Have you ever been to the website entitled "Things White People Like"?  It is hysterical as well as pretty accurate in a stereotypical way.  So I thought of a few lists of my own.  Feel free to chime in, as all white people love to do...

Things "New Yorkers Like To Do On The Subway"
Look at their shoes
Look at the shoes of the person next to them
Avoid eye contact
Listen to the latest Daily Show podcast
Try to look cool with your copy of WIRED sticking out of your messenger bag
Ignore the homeless man singing "Stand By Me"

Things "Union Square Hipsters Like To Do On Saturday Nights"
Dress alike
Pretend they aren't all dressed alike
Try to wear something even more ironic than their friends
Discuss which obscure indie band they like
Try not to like said indie band too much or everyone will think your a fanboy
Talk about thier distain for fanboys
Drink PBR in the can and pay $6 for it
Talk about how everyone and everything is lame, totally lame

Things "Latino Male Cooks Like"
Fat girls
Ugly fat girls
Braging about fucking ugly fat girls
Brag about cheating on their 8 month pregnant wife with an ugly fat girl
Soccer
Cocaine

Things "Spoiled Rich Bitches Love"
Illicit scipts for Xanax, Hydrocodone, Vicodin and Oxycontin
Driving the hot new car their daddy bought them
Wrecking the hot new car during a Thursday night bender with the flavor of the month minority boyfriend to rub it in the face of daddy who bought the car
Shitty hip hop
Dressing like a slutty cum dumpster on her way to the gloryhole
Having kids and then passing them of on their parents
Bitching
Moaning

Things "Hockey Moms Like"
Wearing lipstick in order to distinguish themselves from pitbulls
Not knowing that Africa is, in fact, a continent not a country
Believing that dinosaurs were actually Jesus's horses
Posing pool side with a rifle in patriotic swimwear
Forcing so-called "family values" to everyone but your own family
Fucking up televised interviews
Losing elections
Driving like a piece of shit

Things "The White Big Man On The Basketball Team Likes":
Sucking
Fouling
Never scoring
Missing free throws
Getting out rebounded by a guy 9 inches shorter than themselves
Terrible hair cuts
Getting posterized by the other team's 6' tall point guard
Getting booed

Things "Hippies Like"
Walking around unwashed for days
Wearing the same unwashed clothes for days on end
Smoking really bad weed
Drum circles
Faggy causes
Communing with the Earth Mother
Music festivals
Getting pregnant again
Sticking it to "The Man"
Hemp fashion
Black light posters of mushrooms, dragons and The Grateful Dead
Phish concerts
Being spiritual but not religious

Things "The Jonas Brothers Band Likes"
Bukkake gangbangs with pre-teen asian sex slaves
Incestual dick sucking
Fingering each others asses
Locker room towel fights
Lip syncing
Disney Channel programming
Asking fans which shit-hole country they want them to visit on tour
Re-runs of Happy Days
Letting Jenny Snuggles play "Dixie" on the old Rusty Trombone

Things "The Detroit Lions Like To Do On Sunday"
Hire retards as thier General Managers
Lose
Lose
Lose
Get embarassed by the Bears
Lose
Use high first round draft picks on wide recievers who are at best a fat, lazy malcontents only to watch countless players drafted after them go on to success
Lose
Lose
Shit thier pants
Lose

Things "Keith Olbermann Likes"
Bill O'Reilly (okay, it's more of a full blown man crush)
Stealing bits from SportsCenter for his own show Countdown
Getting banned and thrown off the premisis of ESPN
Using Peter Jennings' death to engender sympathy for himself by announcing on air that he had a benign tumor removed from his mouth. He attributed this to a 27-year habit of smoking pipes, cigars and being a douchebag
Being a conservative during his time on Fox News
Being a liberal during his time on MSNBC
Stamp collecting and other nerdy pursuits

Currently listening : Polo Club By Greenskeepers Release date: 2006-10-24

5:36 PM - 46 Comments - 28 Kudos - Add Comment

Candy Mountain: A Cautionary Tale
Current mood: used

Ever had a dream you would have swore was real?  A dream so vivid that you could not tell where it ended and reality began?  Ever dreamt of some wild fantasy, only to awaken in an unfamiliar place?  No?  Me either, but this is what it would be like if I did….

The buzzing in my ears wakes me.  In my daze I search for my alarm clock on my nightstand but instead find soft grass.  I open my eyes to realize I am not in my room or my house.  I seem to be in some strange forest.  I don't recognize anything.  I don't think I have ever been here before, where am I?  The light is all wrong, sort of a fuzzy haze.  All the colors are a pastel shade not found in nature, where the fuck am I?  In the trees are gumdrops.  Lollipops grow on the shrubs and the birds are made of chocolate.  So weird.

I stumble to my feet and search around the woods.  The trees are different too, no discernable kind I could identify.  They didn't have the smell either, no pine or cedar scent, only the smell of sweets and candy.  What the fuck kind of place is this?

After walking through the woods for awhile, becoming panicked with each passing minute.  I smell something awful.  I am sickened by a noxious cloud of chemicals of what seems like ammonia, lye and matchsticks.  I follow the trail in the woods to a clearing where a red van is parked.  Among the litter of beer cans, aluminum foil, paper plates and assorted trash I find empty cans of Drain-o and dozens of Sudafed boxes.
"What the fuck is going on?" I utter under my breath as I slowly turn to walk away, having discovered the source of the toxic fumes.   No sooner do I turn away, than I hear behind me.  "Whaddaya want?  Whaddaya doin' on muh property?"  I feel a wave of dread and fear come over me.  I slowly turn back, careful not to make any sudden moves.  Emerging from the van are two trolls.  The larger male is holding a shotgun on me.  He is grotesque with his large nose, jagged yellowish brown teeth and crossed eyes about a millimeter apart.  The other is obviously a female, her face contorted in some hideous shape.  She is topless, exposing her uneven and lopsided breasts.  She has several bruises and what looks to be a pretty nasty infected cut over her eye.

"I'm sorry, sir, I think I am lost and I am just trying to find my way out of the woods.  I didn't mean to bother you."  I can feel terror grip me as I know this is not looking good.

"Well if'in yer lost, whur bouts you headin' to?"  The troll grumbled, still pointing the gun at my head.  I tried to think of something to say, but I have no idea where I am at.

"I am not sure, I don't know how I got here.  I don't even know where 'here' is."

"Ya mean ya don't know where ya at?  What's ya name, honey?  I'm Jenny and this here's Bobby."  Spoke the female, as she leans in to whisper something in Bobby's ear.

"I'm Scott.  I'm not from around here and I am not sure how I even got here."

The two trolls confer for a second, while I look around for something to defend myself with or what would be the best escape route.

"We can take ya to a place were somebody can help ya Scotttttiiiieeee.  I know a guy who can help ya."

"Yeah, we can take ya ta see Styrone over there at Candy Mountian." Spoke Bobby.

I wasn't sure if I heard them right.  Candy Mountain?  I was hesitant and skeptical to say the least.  I told them it was fine and they didn't have to help me, but they seem insistant on leading me to see their friend Styrone.  I politely refused again when the fumes from their meth lab began to make me ill and I decided it might be best to go along.

We set out on the trail, the three of us.  Jenny walked in front and Bobby behind me.  Jenny would turn and say things like "Scotttttiiiieee. Scotttttiiiiee, la la la la laaaaaah.  Ya married Scottttttiiieee?"  "Uh, no Jenny, I'm not"   Not really sure what was going on but all too aware that Bobby still had his gun and was only feet away from my back.  "Uh, Bobby, how far is Candy Mountain from here?"  Hoping to God he would say it was close by.  "Aww 'bout 'nother 3-4 hills over thar" pointing his crooked finger toward the East.  We continued on to another clearing.  There perched on a rock was a startling creature.  "What the fuck is that!?"  Nearly pissing myself at the sight of this huge prehistoric lizard.   "It's a Liopleurodon Scottttiiieeee."

"A what?"

"A Liopleurodon Scottttiiiieee.  Scottttiiieeee.  Scottttttiiiieeee."

I couldn't believe my eyes.   Jenny approaches the liopleurodon and growls at it.  The lizard looks up and hisses.  Jenny dances with excitement as Bobby then tells her something in private.  They both turn and look at me smiling.  I begin to get really nervous.

"C'mon Scotttttiiiieeee, we are getting close!"  As we begin to skip away through the woods again.   God this can't be over fast enough.

We come to an old broken down bridge spanning about 100 feet across a deep gorge.  I am not very keen on heights and am a little nervous when the two heavy trolls bound aboard the rickety old bridge.   

"C'mon Scottttttiiieeee.  This is the bridge of Hope and Wonder!  C'mon Scottttiiiieeee!"

I carefully step as they wait for me on the other side.  Each step I take I can feel the rotten wood start to give.  I nearly pass out before I safely reach the other side.

"Candy Mountain is just over here Scotttttiiiieee! C'mon!"  An excited Jenny shouts as she grabs my arm and leads me over the last hill.

Much to my surprise, there it is.  Candy Mountain, a large pink mountain of cake and ice cream.   The trolls hurry up to the gumdrop hills as I can not believe my eyes.  We walk around the side of the mountain till we see the cave.  I have trouble seeing inside of it.

"Go on in Scotttttiiiiieeee.  Styrone is inside waiting for you.  He can help you get home."

"Uh, that's okay you guys.  I think I will just wait out here.  Thanks for your help."

"Scotttttiiiieeee.  It's okay.  Styrone will help you.  He has magic.  And candy!"

"Uh, no.  Seriously, I don't think I want to go in there."  I begin to slowly back away.

"Naw, get on in there and go see Styrone."  Bobby snapped as he raises his gun toward me, obviously losing his patience.  I wait and ponder this for a minute.  Maybe if I go in and wait till they leave, I can make a run for it.  Maybe this Styrone guy won't be here.

I slowly walk into the dark cave.  I can't see anything, but the stench is overwhelming.  I feel like I'm stepping in mud, the floor squishes when I step.  Just then, the cave door closes.  I run back to try and pry it open but it is stuck.  It is completely pitch black in here.  I have my back to the door, I have crouched down and begin to squint my eyes to try and see anything at all.  I hear squishing noises from across the room.  Footsteps getting closer. 

"Styrone?  Hello?  Uh, they said you could help m---."  I feel a sharp pain to the back of my head.  I hit the soggy floor and pass out.  I am not sure how long I was asleep, but I awoke to the same scene I did previously.  My side is killing me.  Wait, what the fuck?  Oh fuck!  There is a huge gash in my side stitched up with dental floss.  Those motherfucking trolls took my kidney!  FUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My alarm!  Oh thank God!  It was all just a dream!  Holy shit that was intense!  Whew…

I roll over in bed and turn off the alarm clock and stumble into the bathroom.  I have no idea where that coked up cum slut whore I picked up from the bar went.  What was her name?  Jenny?  All I know is she was the worst lay ever.  She just wanted to suck cock and snuggle.  Anyway, who cares?  At least this way I won't have to talk to her.  I turn on the light in the bathroom when I notice a huge cut on my side!  "WHAT THE FUCK!"  That fucking bitch took my kidney!  Suddenly the room begins to spin and my knees buckle.  The last image I have is that of the ceiling of the bathroom spinning into blackness.  Oh shit….

Currently listening : The Big Rock Candy Mountain Release date: 2005-11-15

7:32 AM - 29 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

WTF happened to awesome?
Current mood: bitchy

Halloween is right around the corner, and I, for one, could not be more indifferent. Obviously, as you grow older, Halloween is going to be less and less appealing, but it seems as if the entire nation has let this once great holiday fall by the wayside. As parents have instituted more safeguards and precautions, Halloween has become lamer with each passing year.

Aside from a few randomly placed pumpkins, some shitty horror movies on AMC and the obligatory arson story from Detroit, there is virtually no indication that Halloween is even upon us. In my youth, Halloween was marked with all manner of TV specials, parades, haunted houses, property damage, juvenile delinquency and even protests. Now it's been reduced to four kids knocking on the doors of three houses in the suburbs and idiots eating stale orange cupcakes at a depressing office party.

You may be wondering where I'm heading with all of this. Well I'll tell you. I think it's time we not only return Halloween to its glory days, but improve upon them. Not just for the sake of Halloween, but for the sake of evil in general.

The state of evil in this country is a goddamn joke. I mean, how sad is it that these emo twats have become the unofficial representatives of evil? Despite what these douchebags believe, evil gets shit done. Evil is out there stabbing people and burning down churches. Evil doesn't sit in its room and hardly break its skin with a razor while listening to My Chemical Romance. In short, apathy isn't evil.

So this Halloween, go out there and make us remember why people used to be scared of this day. And the same tired cliches aren't going to get it done. As cute as it is to throw some toilet paper over a tree, it ranks as a nuisance at best. Same goes for water balloons and shaving cream. Just leave that shit at home. If you aren't leaving your house at 2:00 a.m. with anything less than some Molotov cocktails and the contents of the dumpster from the local Planned Parenthood, you aren't doing your job as a representative of evil.

If not for the sake of evil, do it for the sake of good. Think about it. Evil has sucked for the past several years and what have the so-called "good" people resorted to? Banning gay marriage and stem-cell research. Can you really blame them for taking such stupid stances when they don't have anything worthwhile to direct their scorn at?

It's gotten so bad that I think Christmas actually trumps Halloween in the field of bad deeds. Consider this. Christmas activities include opening presents, eating a huge meal and sitting on your ass for the rest of the night. In other words - greed, gluttony and sloth. What does Halloween have going for it these days? At best it only has one of those. The excessive candy can qualify as gluttony, but it least it gives kids some physical activity. It gets them out of the house and it's not even built on materialism. So Christmas is more evil than Halloween. How fucking pathetic is that?

I would say all hope is not lost, but that's really up to all of you out there. This Halloween, I'll be visiting hospitals with my gas can and stopping by nursing homes with my crossbow, but I'm only one person. Whether or not we reclaim this day is up to all of you out there.  BRING AWESOME BACK!!!!  Good luck and Devilspeed.

Currently listening : Die, Die My Darling By Misfits Release date: 1990-10-17

3:07 PM - 68 Comments - 30 Kudos - Add Comment

Next Season? More Bad TV (Platypus task)

Platypus Task : Annihilated 

TO MY MORE SENSITIVE FREINDS WHO ARE ALWAYS OFFENDED BY THINGS I WRITE...  LEAVE NOW...THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING....I'M SERIOUS...LEAVE NOW...

DON"T READ IT...DON'T READ IT...DON'T READ IT..DON'T READ IT

SERIOUSLY... 

STILL HERE?  OKAY

............DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.............

The executives of NBC, CBS and FOX recently held a high level meeting at the offices of Donald Trump to bid over what The Donald was already calling "the greatest reality show ever produced".  Here is what proceeded to transpire...

DT:  "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, I'll get right to it.  As you know, I have had great success with The Apprentice, and am always looking to make a sensational move up the ladder of greatness.  I have come up with a show so powerful, so provocitive, so star-studded and so topical that it will be the new standard by which all other shows will be measured.  Lets meet the stars shall we?  Come on out guys..."

The door swings open to reveal the cast of the show:  Lindsay Lohan, the Jonas Brothers, Amy Winehouse and the body of Estelle Getty.

"Okay, guys, show 'em what you got..."

LiLo begins by taking her top off while the Nick and Joe Jonas begin to remove each others shirts.  Kevin Jonas and Amy Winehouse tear the burial clothes of Estelle like a couple of kids at Christmas.  Kevin calls dibs on the old gals panties as Amy slides hers to the side so she can face sit the former Golden Girl.
LiLo, now fully nude, watches as Nick and Joe lick each others chests and feel their own budding erections.  Kevin has his face buried in the lap of the deceased actress, pulling her yellowish drawers off with his teeth as Amy slides up and down Estelle's face, leaving a greasy slug trail from her chin to nose.  LiLo begins to masterbate with a vodka bottle while watching Joe and Nick begin to preform incestual felacio upon each other.  Kevin begins to lick the late Mrs. Getty's cold, dead twat as LiLo begins to remove his pants.  Amy, having achieved orgasm on Estelle's crooked nose, then turns her attention to LiLo who has managed to cram the entire bottle up her snatch.  Nick and Joe are in a full 69 pose as they begin to hump each other's mouths furiously.  LiLo turns over onto all fours as Amy Winehouse begins to sodomize her with the Stoli bottle. 
Kevin plucks the right eye out of Estelle Getty and starts to skull fuck her as Joe and Nick join Amy in preforming an "airtight" on LiLo.  Just as Kevin Jonas is about to cum from his ocular penetration masterpiece, he gets up and joins his brothers who have now formed a circle around Amy and LiLo who have begun to scissor each other.  As the boys start to unload on the skanks, Amy Winehouse begins to choke LiLo as she begins to cum.  Amy, with the unnatural strength that years of crack will provide, successfully strangles LiLo as the Jonas Brothers finish up the bukkake-in-the-round on Estelle's dead corpse.  After they finish splashing her dead body with their man goo, they and Amy Winehouse, stand up and take a bow.  Then they all take out pistols and point them to their temples.  In unison, they shout "T-T-T-hat's all folks!", as they fire a single round into thier heads.

The stunned memebers of the media, mouths agape, sit in horror as The Donald walks over and closes the door.
Finally the emissary from NBC manages to ask, "What the HELL was that?"  To which the The Donald replys, "The Aristocrats!"

Currently listening : Living in America By The Sounds Release date: 2003-05-06

4:14 PM - 35 Comments - 26 Kudos - Add Comment

The End is Near(er)
Current mood: annoyed

The apocalypse is upon us, the end is near....

Rachel Ray, the bane of my existance, has just won an Emmy.  Let me say that again.  That no-talent hack of a mongoloid won a somewhat prestigious award for daytime television.

This begs the question, is television really that bad, or are the people responsible for this egregious abortion of judgement really that stupid?

The answer is both.

As I have extold the mis-virtues of Ray's so called cooking shows, I feel no need rehashing the facts that she can neither cook nor carry on a basic conversation above an 4th grade level. 

Much to my surprise, however, the latest abominable incarnation of her show for our viewing displeasure is her talk/lifestyle show creatively called "Rachel Ray".  This is, of course, another Oprah-clone spin off brought to you by the same bilge merchants that brought us Dr.Phil and Dr.Oz, that keep pregnant mothers-to-be and lazy fat-assed house wives glued to the set to try and make sense of the world between folding laundry and commercial breaks.

The ugly truth is that we have suckled the sour teet of King World televison for so long you no longer realize that we are rewarding the same homogenized and bland brand of boring mediocrity.  The day that worthless, ignorant, smarmy, malshapen lump of dog shit can win an award for anything but a Darwin for killing herself in an interesting fashion is the day we all need to watch out for plagues of locusts and meteors falling on our heads...

By the way, the other most hated person in DreamBoatVille, Paula Fucking Deen just opened a theme buffet in The Grand Casino Tunica....  sigh....

Currently listening : Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia By The Dandy Warhols Release date: 2000-08-01

3:45 AM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Looking Cool (or Are The Dry Heaves are Worth It?)
Current mood: hungover
Category: Life

First of all, I'm extremely hungover... 

I feel like a family of angry Bonobo apes each took craps in my head, and then beat the shit out of it...

I'm not sure if it was the Jager at noon that started this whole business, but I know it was the Jager at 2am that ended it...

The puke stain on my bathroom floor is a lovely mosaic of red and yellow liquid, along with spinach leaves wilted by my stomach acid and what looks to be curdled cheese...

You can find a certain purity of thought when your clinging to the porcelain, a clarity rarely found in everyday life....

You make promises you have no intention of keeping, but you honestly believe them on that cold floor...

You find god, and pray to him to end it...Then realize your drunk and that even if there is a god, he doesn't care about your alcohol poisoning because he is busy inventing new diseases and sending tidal waves and earthquakes to those heathens in Asia (god hates asians now?)...

You contimplate you entire life in 45 second increments, between the dry heaves and spitting...

You question everything: relationships with family, friends, former spouses, current love interests, potential love interests, your choosen career, your potential job after you are fired from the current one, the witty one-liners you burned that one bitch up with (i was on fire), your self-loathing, how you hate yourself for self-loathing....

Then, you wake up in your clothes, in your bed at 9am...  You have one million things to do, but right now that Sprite can in the fridge is calling your name ...... mmmmmm..... That tastes good...  So does a cigarette...You dont want to look in the bathroom, dude...

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggghhhh......

It looks like someone had a 1000 island food fight in here.... 
How did that get all the way up there??       Is that??      Is that a tomato??    No, it's only half eaten shrimp.....  

The easiest way to remedy this is board up this room forever and never speak of it again....  Fuck my deposit on this place....That will never work...Idiot...

Oh well, at least I looked cool last night...

8:10 AM - 8 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Buttons Pushed: A collection of recent rants (vol.4)

(thanks evern)

EVOLUTION IS WRONG, BUT THIS IS RIGHT?

Survival of the fittest, right?  The Prophet George Carlin once said, "the kid who eats too much paste doesn't grow up to have kids of his own."  Although we try to do our best to help the most idiotic and luckless in our society have as many kids as possible through welfare and tax breaks, nature still dictates, and nature is not to be trifled with. 

Enter the Neumann family.  They decided that rather than take their child to a doctor, they'd let their 11 year old daughter die SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY and hope for the power of prayer.  Gentle readers, this is the way it's supposed to be.  If you're dumb enough to believe in a fairy tale to the point where you let your child die of a horribly painful disease, then it's best your genes no longer be promulgated.  The other kids will probably get a sniffle that will turn into pneumonia over the course of weeks of coughing, fever, and prayer and also die horrendously drowning in their own lung fluids.  Like I said, Mother Nature is not to be trifled with.

By the by:  the family says they're not fanatics.  If you let religion poison your mind to the point where you (I'm getting sick of writing this) let your child die, you're a fanatic.  That's the rule.  Strap on some C-4 and hop on a bus in Jerusalem while you're at it.  Mutilate your daughter's genitalia.  Move out to the Utah desert and marry several women.  You're a fucking fanatic, bottom line.

ANOTHER FUNDAMENTALIST'S WET DREAM

I've been waiting to chime in on this whole gaggle of women and children that were rescued by the texas authorities from jeezus freak child molestors.  Now, I haven't read the bible, but I'm pretty certain there's something in there about putting your meatstick into a child, because it seems to be all the rage amongst the believers.  Hey, at least these particular jeezus freaks are marrying the children before raping them, a courtesy catholic priests have yet to learn. 

Apparently, however, the mothers are appalled at the conditions that their dozens and dozens and dozens of children have been placed into now that they're out of their little Jonestown compound.  You know what, you ungrateful cunts?  Go fucking back.  I'm sure there are plenty of men who'd love to use religion as an excuse to fuck children (it's the only excuse that's recognized by law in some states) and it's not like you or any of those kids are going to be anything but a burden on the state anyway. 

So let's get this straight, jeezus freaks:  no gays getting married, but 50 year old men marrying several 16 year old girls is "fundamental."

....on a very personal side note....
I would like to extend my deepest and most heartfelt sympathies to a certain dumb-ass guy who took an active part in my break up last year.  Appartently this retard had his little heart stomped too.  Gee, you think after watching it happen right in front of your very eyes would be like some kind of warning or something.  I guess what goes around really does come around.  :-)

5:26 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Why Anthony Bourdain is better than you....
Current mood: pugnacious

Chef Anthony Bourdain is a complete bad-ass....

Unlike other so-called TV chefs, he actaully worked in a kitchen at some point in his life.  He is to restaurant lifers like me, what Bill Gates is to nerds.  His show on Travel Channel, "No Reservations", won a Goddamned emmy.  His books, first the paramount service industy cult classic Kitchen Confidential, are an inspiration to all the back-of-the-house drones slaving away over a hot stove. 
The simple fact that he actually KNOWS what he is talking about is the biggest reason I respect him.  You don’t see him peddling his brand of seasonings, some new fangled kitchen apparatus, going on Oprah every five minuets or anything like that.  He is an unrepentant smoker and drinker.  A true hero and a damn good real American man along the lines of John Wayne, Lee Marvin, Gregory Peck, and Judge Mathis.  In other words, he is ALL bad-ass and I thank God every night for him.  My prayer goes something like this...BOW YOUR DAMN HEAD!!!
"We thank you oh Lord, for men like Chef Anthony and myself.  Males of the masculine variety, winners all of us.  And we do thank you for the women too, how you made them from a part of a man that we do not need nor want, to live by our rules and our pleasures.."  You get the idea.  I have the worlds biggest man crush on him.  He is everything I wish I could be...(sigh)

Unlike that trash sack full of shit Rachel Ray.  This dumb whore proudly admits she doesn’t have a goddamned clue about anything in the kitchen. I give you this per her website:  She cannot bake (because you have to measure ingredients), she cannot make coffee, and is notorious for burning bread under the broiler. . To critics of her shortcut techniques, Ray responds, "I have no formal anything. I’m completely unqualified for any job I’ve ever had."
No fucking shit you retarded dog turd, and your incessant giglling at your own stupid jokes, the way you try to talk over everyones head by using terms like "E.V.O.O." (extra virgin olive oil), and "G.B." (garbage bowl, I prefer a T.C.-or trash can myself) just illustrate how completely fucking out of your depth you are.  I can not belive that anyone actually takes her seriously.  When she isn’t pimping out some new show, she is pulling a freshly endorsed turbo gadget out of her twat.  Give me the ewok-like Emeril anyday over her.
YOU FUCKING SUCK RACHEL RAY!!! Ps. Should you really be wearing this?


You are almost as bad as that flabby cunt Paula Deen. 

When this disgusting Jabba the Hut look-a-like isn’t stuffing her face full of the repulsive shit she makes she is busy endorsing yet another line of Southern Living knock off cookbooks.  Her nasty face is on everything nowadays.  I can not stand the sound of her voice.  I would rather listen to a bunch of rocks in a blender than her molasses thick drawl saying "c’mon y’all, eat my fucking snatch"
I fucking hate you Paula Deen...

Currently listening : Greatest Hits By The Ramones Release date: 06 June, 2006

12:07 PM - 12 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Buttons Pushed: A collection of recent rants (vol.3)
Current mood: angsty

VOTING = STUPID WASTE OF TIME

I am not voting this year.  I am calling my shot now.  I do not care who wins or loses.  I don't care about McCain, Obama, Clinton, Huckabee or any other pompous charlottan parading around spewing lies and blowing smoke up your ass.  I love how people are lining up to get the brutal dildo of life shoved up their ass by brand new Uncle Sam.  You sheep don't get it do you?  If voting change anything, they wouldn't let you do it.  Special interests run this country, not you.  You are going to get PWNED by whoever gets elected.  Wise up retard!

VIVA MEXICO / VIVA EQUADOR

Man, I can't wait till they build that goddamned wall on the border.  I can not wait till we rip the heart out of the entire service industy, not to mention housing, produce and anything else that require intense menial labor with little pay.  
I can not wait to pay $20 for a head of lettice,  housing costs to rise 50%, $300 to get your lawn mowed or any other assorted economical nightmares that would ensue shortly after the mass deportation of the purported 6.5 million illegal immigrants back to the shit holes they came from. 
Nevermind we W.A.S.P.s did the same damn thing 200 years ago. 
Nevermind that fucking statue in NYC that says something like:
                 "Give me your tired, your poor, 
                  Your huddled masses yearning to
                     breathe free,
                  The wretched refuse of your teeming
                     shore.
                  Send these, the homeless, tempest-lost to me"
So, in other words, you average ordinary Mexican/South American immigrant.
Nothing pisses me off more than people trying to come to this country to seek a better life and work their asses off doing jobs we won't do anymore.  I am a (so-called) restaurant manager, and part of my duties are to hire, train and keep a kitchen/buss/dishwashing staff capable of producing the over priced slop we call food.  (don't get me wrong, i eat there as much as anyone).  I can not tell you the last time I hired an American-born dishwasher.  As a matter of fact, I probably wouldn't do it.  My native countrymen who apply for the job tend to be lazy, severely on drugs, or just plain intolerable.  However the Mexican who comes in needs employement, has a family (ie. responsibilites), doesn't feel entitled to wealth and fortune just because he was born here.  He doesn't sulk because I get on his case, in fact he tries harder to impress me and is constantly worried that I might take one of his precious shifts away.  You know who makes the kitchens run?   Latino labor.  You go out to eat with your heterosexual-styled-life-mate to a nice Italian restaurant.  You order, the food and it looks great and tastes great.  You know who cooked it?  It wasn't Vinny Vicenzo, it was Raul Garcia or Armando Rodriguez.  That nice French place with the Filet Mignon aux Oignons that you like so much?  Latino.  Not only do they slave away for countless hours for routinely far less money than their American counterparts, but they could not probably eat at the restaurants they work at.  At a certain 3-star steak house I used to work at, there is no way Sergio the line cook, backbone of the kitchen, takes his family to eat there.  Even if he got the night off (which never happens), spent his whole entire paycheck on the meal, the Maitre 'D or hostess would probably sit them as far away from public display as possible or claim they were on a fucking huge wait to discourage them from dinning there.  The sevice to this family would probably be lacking to say the least.  Why?  Because they are the Morlocks to our Eloi.  They are supposed to toil away underground, unseen, and not bitch about working conditions or pay or other obvious slights hurled their way.  We complain they don't speak enough English when I bet most Americans are borderline functionally illiterate too.  They have taxes taken out of their checks the same as me.  They do the jobs we won't and are happy to have them.
The fact of the matter is this.  They are here, they are not going anywhere, and they want to work - so let them!  Fuck you Rush Limbaugh....

GAY MARRIGE and WHATS THE BIG DEAL

So what Adam and Gary want to get married?  BIG FUCKING DEAL!!!
The only people not contributing to overpopulation of the world are the homosexuals.  Not only are they not contributing, but they're actually taking in all the unloved and abandoned children that the pious heterosexuals leave behind, raising them, educating them, and caring for them.  Hey, that baby may have been conceived behind a dumpster, but it was conceived through heterosexual sex, just as god intended.  And I'm not quite sure why they're fighting this constitutional ban on marriage that's being tossed around by the likes of Tancredo and Santorum.  I would love a constitutional amendment that says I'm legally barred from spending tens of thousands of dollars on a ceremony for getting people I don't even know drunk.  I was married once, wish I had those years and money back.  Sounds like a deal.

Currently listening : Rock 'N' Roll Is Straight from Hell By Unknown Hinson Release date: 26 November, 2002

4:03 PM - 19 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Drunken Girl Wisdom....

(or...My Nick Olds Tribute Blog)

There are many paths toward enlightenment.  Some ways are more fun than others.  The Buddist belive life, and quailtiy of said life, are derived from our painfull experiences.  Therefore "life is suffering".  However, here in the Utopian States of America, we dont have suffering and we sure as hell dont feel any pain.  So how is it these learned girls became the sages we now see?  The answer lies at the bottom of the bottle, my friend, the bottom of a bottle indeed...

Listen close as they define life in logical terms....

Knowlege

8:32 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

My Son...
Current mood: overstimulated

About 4 years ago, right after my divorce, I was at a low point in my life.  I was on the rebound, about to move to Florida, and needed a casual realtionship filled with angry, aggressive sex to take the sting out. That is when I met Sequenthia.

I was walking along the road one day, picking up cans when I heard someone in the grass coughing. I looked over, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. There she was, with skinned up knees, chapped lips and blood-shot eyes...Heaven was missing an angel. I took her home and made sweet, sweet love to her. Sweet NASTY love, the kind where you can't possibly Febreeze that shit out. So, after our 24 hour trist, she was gone. Out of my life forever, or so I thought. Then one day I get a notice in the mail. I owe back child support, on MY SON!!!! Imagine my surprise since I am fairly certain I shoot blanks. I remember having unprotected sex, but I pulled out way in time, of that I am sure... Oh well, I thought, maybe this was the little miracle I needed in my life. I had been missing the kids that I had grown to love, and here was a fresh start with one of my very own. I embraced this news. In fact it proves to me that there is, indeed, a God in Heaven. For it was His devine intervention that gave me this, my boy Sloth, THANK YOU GOD!!!!

8:04 AM - 8 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

My Pet Bum: Abraham Stinkin’
Current mood: overstimulated

I always get gas at one particular station.  The Exxon nearest my house on Markham and Van Buren.  As it is accross the street from the largest park in my city, War Memorial, there tends to be the occasional drifter, homeless person, or bum loitering about.  Every now and again, I will get pan-handled.  Always with the same sob story about how they need your money to get back home to whatever rock they crawled out of.  Normally they aren't even worth looking at to say "no, get out of my face you nasty motherfucker", but every once in a while you get one that is truely special.  A piece of shit so unique, you are forced to take notice and even claim it as your pet.  Enter Abraham Stinkin'.
Old "Honest Abe", became my new pet bum a while back. Abe is an African American male, stands about 6 feet tall.  He is rail thin, wears what was once probably blue jeans but now are brown jeans.  He has one red shoe, one black shoe, both with untied laces.  His shirt, an artistic masterpiece that Jackson Pollack would be proud of, can only be described as a collection of assorted stains on a purple canvas.  He wears a cammo hat that covers his unwashed shit-locks.  The stench from Abe is unbelievable.  It would make maggots puke.
This toothless crazy fuck has been the scourge of the Hillcrest Exxon for sometime now.  Every single white girl who gets out of her SUV to gas up gets the same thing.  He sneaks up behind them, the shouts loudly "I AINT NO ROBBER!!"  As they recoil in horror, he completely invades thier personal space.  Getting to within a few feet, he tones it down, with the saddest puppy dog eyes.  "I be hongry ma'am, I aint got no money..."  He then looks down at his feet, until he sees the stupid sucker reach in her purse and pull out some money.  As soon as the money hits that greasy paw, he runs off to buy his morning beer.  No "thank you", no "god bless", just unbridled giddiness as he grabs a 40oz beer from the cooler.  Except this one particular day....
As I was gassing up one fine autumn afternoon, I noticed Abe lurking over by the ice cooler.  Mumbling to himself, and pacing back and forth.  Looking to see who drove up to get fuel.  Much like a spider in his web, a juicy morsel would soon land his way.  As I was finishing up at the tank, he hits the jackpot.  A early 20-ish white girl in a BMW pulls up.  She even has a Kerry '04 sticker in her window, so you know she is a easy target.  She probably WANTS to help this degenerate.  She gets out of the car, takes her credit card out of her Chanel purse and begins to fill up.  Here comes abe.  "I AINT NO ROBBER LADY!!!!"  Startled, she quietly responds "oh, i am sorry".  As if she has to appologize for getting uneasy around this parasite.  "I be so hooongry...." really laying it on thick.  She reaches in her purse and gives Abe some cash.  In his usual fashion, he begins to sprint away, when he realizes she only gave him 2 dollars.  He wheels around and shouts back "AINT YOU GOT NO FIVES???"  Again, she says "oh im sorry sir, thats all the cash i have".  This casues Abe to have a full blown meltdown.  He rants and screams every obscenity he can think of at this poor woman.  Accuses her of holding out on him, accuses her of being a racist, spewing his gingivitis tinged spit all over her expensive car and handbag.  As he walks away, she again tells him "sorry".  I looked at her and smiled.  "I guess beggars can be choosers", and of course I get the go-to-hell look. 
Thats when I knew I had to have Abe as my very own.  I see him on the picnic tables by the zoo every morning.  Usually with two or three empty 40's laying beside him.  I think I am going to start having him over to the house.  He can live in my storage shed, and I will give him beer and Wendy's.  I can have him steal artwork from the gallery up the street, do funny stuff to make me laugh, or have him kill people I don't like.  Just imagine what you can do with your very own bum...Wow.  God bless Abraham Stinkin. 

2:12 PM - 9 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment