Archive for the 'President Bush' Category

Fear Not

Fear not ye who stare in dumbblankfacerificatio.  This blasphemous affront from he with the royal nose and created royal lineage will be met with brutally harsh impunity.  He will be crushed with my iron gauntlet as I mold his flacid will like a piece of wet clay. 

The King’s claim to royal lineage is false and ridiculous.  My children, King Stoney was once a young grasshopper in my School of Debaucherous Edification.  This State sponsored program reluctantly admitted the Prince to imbue the naive Prince with the necessary rejection of extravagant material objects and extravagant g.p.a.’s .  What the young Prince did not realize is that this propagandalistic program of debaucherous inundation and and murdering of reason was to weaken the privileged for our worker’s revolution.  My arduous work of the last few months, day in and out, working into the wee hours of the night, was for the building of my barnesian army. 

I am a man of the people.  My father, a poor dirt farmer who struck oil through his rural education, rose through the ranks of the privileged like the early Blogres lineage that King Stoney claims.  Abandoning me in his quest for the tainted coin,  I was raised in the hardened industrial center of our land.  I am a worker that will crush the priviliged and distribute their wealth to the people.  Rise against your attacking tyrannical despot who rules with wild passion and uncontrolled partiality.  Join the ranks of the industrialized worker.  Sign up at your local Volkswagen dealer.  

In my brilliant plan of genius, I paved the way to revolution through my puppet P.M. Sunburner.  He is a weak man of the senses swayed toward the passion.  He is a weakened by his addiction to the witch’s brew squeezed of the rotten teat.  His ludicrous claim of peak conditioning and corpus care are being revealed by the pictures provided by Morel the Destoryer, a man of truth.     

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Taken after his royal decree last night

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Suppressing the Truth

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Destroyed by his Extravagance–Poisoned by Morel the Truthsayer

 Let this be a lesson to all who oppose the strengthening of the Bloggerland.  Sunburner is an example of any who stand in the way of our glorious revolution of the people.  Treacherous lechery will be Punished!

-Chancellor Ovaltine

P.M. Demonstrates his Iron Handocity

In a predictable unexpected turn of events, P.M. Sunburner has disposed of his newly befriended assassin.  In his ruthless ruthnicity, the P.M. beguiled the attacker into a partnership of death.  No, not the scythe to his iron hand, the attacker became the victim of his glorious impunity.  The colossal hand that now makes Blogres strong and empowered to meet the agression of any would-be agressors has come down on any who oppose it. 

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It seems that shortly after the Toast of Sunburnable Brotherhood the P.M. threw the attacker off of the Royal Balcony where he plummeted to the marble floor, falling to his death.  The P.M.’s delight in destroying all those who oppose the Bloggerland will assure the people of his pledge to protect the people from the royal despotism with brutal force.  “I will destroy all those who oppose my shepherding of the followers of the Book of Savagery”, said the P.M., “But, I will usher in a newer, stronger Iron-age in which our land is impervious to the flacid assaults of limp troglodytes.”

 The P.M.’s promise of a stronger land rising from the ashes of the former King’s debaucherous disregard for public affairs was compounded by a State exposition of strength, physical prowess, and the P.M.’s superior body type.  “Not only through genes, but arduously hard repetition, can you too approach my chiseled greatness.  I take care of my body, I am believe in preserving the sanctimonious temple which is the human body.  I am outlawing all manufacturing, sale, distribution, consumption, and even speaking of substances harmful to the realization of your goal to approach the human specimen that is me.  Any caught consuming drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, or polska kielbasa will immediately be executed.  Do not fear my children–I will liquidate the threats to our ever-lasting security.  Everything Must Go!”   

–Morel the Destoyer–

Brought to you by our friends at Costco–Destroying Small Businesses One Zip Code at a Time

Exactly the type of citizens his gloriousness wants.  Both the violent teens and the complacent videographers.  Don’t forget to check out our new thirteen year old punani section.  Now in boxes of a dozen– baker’s dozen that is. –Costco 😉

Asssination Attempt on P.M.

The drama of the foreign invasion has escalated in the last few hours as P.M. Leopold Sunburner was attacked by a would-be assasin while giving his second decree.   

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The identity of the attacker has been revealed.  In a tribute to the long forgotten fighter of injustice, El Kabong, the defiler of the sanctity of the sanctimonious new P.M., was stopped not by security, but the iron hand of Sunburner. 

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His foiling of the attempt was not accompanied with a bum rush of security or the summary execution as expected, but a peace offering.  It seems the P.M. recognizes the assailant as the now dishonored and disgraced former American presidential candidate.  Aligned closely in their political persuasion, they ironically have become great friends and confidants.  A proposed consulship and extermination of the exiled King is rumored to have and still be considered. 

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We, the Royal Press, will continue to bring you the continued late breaking newsworthy news.  Heil Sunburner.       

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politics, religion, et cetera… . .. . … .. …. .. …. .. . .

(those periods are for you, stonesylvania.) 

i have been delinquent lately and didn’t know about either of stoney’s  guys’ debauchery.  i wish i had, but politics is boring — even when it deals with blowww and hookers.  i won’t vote for this guy any more now than i would have before i knew about the drugs and sex.  until i meet a politician who will look you in the eye and say he’s never made a mistake and he never plans to make one,  i’ll be fairly convinced i could do a better job governing myself than any of them could.  i mean, jiuliani (or “orange” [in honor of his boy’s huge nose candy purchase] julius as i will call him from this day forward) doesn’t even know me.  how the shit is he supposed to know what decisions are in my best interest?  in the old days, way on back in the days of grunting, beards and hunter/gatherers, people would form a society to protect themselves from other societies (not to mention the ravenous sabre-tooth tigers, mastadons, etc.).  i’m sure at the beginning of society, some guy was laying out, chilling in the cut, maybe reading a playboy and minding his own bidness, and the tribe leader said to him, “glork, you better get that firewood.  the rest of us are counting on your lazy ass.”  and glork was thinking, “damn, it was so much better when i could do whatever the hell i wanted to do without all these dicks bossing me all the time.”  but you know what glork did?  he collected the wood.  because he needed the protection that could only be afforded by the society.  nowadays, people don’t think like that, in my opinion.  nowadays, people simply accept the fact that they were born into a society, and so that must be the best place for them to be.  i stand that this is simply no longer the case.  man has tamed the shit out of nature.  we don’t have anything to worry about except snake bites and the occasional shark attack.  furthermore, no human cares enough about me to attack me.  what the shit would they even do that for?  waste of a bullet.  i won’t attack them either.  i can grow shit in my back yard and eat dogs and cats and squirrels and shit if it really comes right down to it.  no reason for me to mess with anyone.  my point?  glad you asked.  society is no longer the same shizzazzle it was back in the day.  individuals don’t really need to protection of a huge gov’t.  besides, when people did need such protection — take hurricane katrina, for instance — where the fuck was our great society?  thumb up the ass, watching the weather channel and drinking beer, wondering where the hell they’d move mardi gras to… and that was george w.  that proves (for me anyways) that society can no longer perform its primary function — protection of its members.  that’s the main reason why i haven’t, don’t and won’t vote.  you be asking yourself, “well then suit, why don’t you just LEAVE and do your own thing if you don’t like the american way?”  well, this is a good point.  i wonder this about myself sometimes, too.  i think it comes down to this.  i gotta get mine.  if i left right now, i’d be broke before i got to a place where i could really do my own thing for real.  you gotta have money to make a real move.  hence, the master plan — participate in society to as minimal a degree as is practicable until i save up some real green.  then, peace out.  merc on to someplace where i can do my own thing without worrying about what anybody says.  part of this minimal participation is making it a priority to not vote.  voting would lock me in.  i would start to follow this shitstem and never be able to break out. 

(ps — when you register to vote, you also have to fill out a draft card.  i knew this was a shitty idea when i was in high school, and so i didn’t fill out the shit.  therefore, i am registered for neither voting nor slaughtering brown people.) ((pps — the gov’t teacher in 12th grade tried to fail me for for not filling out the form, but i aced all her tests, so she didn’t have a leg to stand on.))

as far as breeding terrorism, i’m either too stupid or too smart to question the fact that all politicians have spin doctors (and i don’t mean the “2 princes” spin doctors).  to reference a simile i made earlier, discussing politics is like going all in on a blind hand of poker.  doesn’t make any sense because you know neither what you have nor what your opponents have in their hands.  all i know is this:  the golden rule is faulty.  “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  if we hurt the arabs, then we deserve to get sliced a bit, right?  it’s the golden rule, after all.  if arabs did bad things to us, they deserve to get bombed, too, right?  it is in the golden rule.  but then what?  people all know the golden rule, yet bad stuff keeps happening.  if people keep “doing unto others” based on what has been “done unto [them]”, we’ll all be fucking DEAD!  this is not what i consider a good time.  the golden rule doesn’t work.  it just breeds recursive murder wars.  neither the victor nor the loser is ever happy.  everyone’s still got a bone to pick, and the killing continues.  here’s what i propose.  throw out the golden rule.  adopt another rule.  how about the one jesus came up with?  how about “turn the other cheek”? how about “love thine enemy”?  i mean, america is a judeo-christian nation, right?  it says so right on the money.  that means we all believe in heaven, right?  that means that what we do down here makes no difference in the big picture, right?  sure.  because heaven is eternal, but life on earth is “but a blink of the eye.”  that means, if some asshole wants to shoot us, who cares?  they’ll go to hell, and we’ll be laughing our balls off, playing hop-scotch with john lennon in heaven.  fuck this killing.  for real.  i am over it all for real.  a guy from my high school just got killed.  i was a total ass to him (roids, teenage hormones, popularity… you know), and now i will never be able apologize or slap him a high five and come back on the flip side.  it’s fucked up for real.  and the worst part — he thought he was doing right by his country!  sad sad scene.

so, any of you who have made it through this post are all stupider for having read it.  i award you no points, and may god have mercy on your souls. 

now, go slaughter some people whose skin is darker than your own!!  before they do it to you first.

and don’t forget to vote.  in fact, vote three times.  keep on voting and voting until you cast a fat, brown ballot in your pants.

feeling like a loser…

…is terrible.  especially when you’re feeling like this because of a blog.  i go to work everyday, grow a sick garden and fish like Bill fucking Dance mixed with Roland goddam Martin, yet still i find myself in the dishonorable position of this blog’s weakest link…  damn, it’s sad.  before you comment, realize that i’m dead serious. 

 roughty is right.  my rolecalls are just little opportunities for me to interact with this ever-growing bloghole.  i wish i could do more…  just the same, instead of commenting on all these dif. posts, i’m going to assert some wide ranging, general comments to everything that i’ve seen going on in the past couple weeks.

 first, it’s important for me to shout out large and loud to senor twitchles.  good work, sir.  if you can put up with stoney’s bullshit on a reg. basis, my hat is off to you.  punch him in the face behind the dumpster for roughty, and then laugh your ass off for me.  twitch, your insights on the posts by dankkkknugs and roughty are very very refreshing, though i must still side with roughty on the savage-content of shoes.  keep up the solid contribs, dude.  maybe one day you’ll get “promoted” to full-editor.  then you can be as much of a fucking waste of space loser as the rest of us.  (i got my fingers crossed for you, holmes.)

 dankkkkkkkkk, you’re doing it dude.  got your junk wet one day, and now you’re back in the land of the living.  talking about the old days, writing poems and smoking fattttttties no doubt.  my hat is off to you, and it’ll stay off until the next time i hear “That Smell” by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

by the way, can you smell that smell?  “I don’t know, dude.  what smell?!!?”  man, you got so pissed at me that time, and i was just trying to be funny.  oh well, we’re past that.  at least we were until now, right?  right??  come-ooonnn!  by the way, redsox suck.  big papi’s about to have a coronary, and then the team will fold and move to new mexico.

stoney, you ripped my haikus and caused me to have to respond on you with scalding profundity.  i’m sure you’re still crying yourself to sleep about that.  the good news is that i haven’t gotten any threatning comments lately like, “if you don’t like what i’m talking about, why don’t you get your own blog?!  they’re free.”  i gotta admit, those comments hurt my feelings…  anyway, you’re the one keeping this festival of idiots alive, and i give you a 20 gun salute for it.  it takes a lot of effort to keep a bunch of ne’er-do-wells like us organized in any project, and you should be proud of yourself for it (and i’m sure you are!:))  what’s missing is the timely political commentary.  what’s up?  you didn’t pay your cable bill and lost msnbc?  oh well, with the elections coming closer every day, i imagine it’s just a matter of time.  

next, i was ssoooooooo surprised when you characterized yourself as our group’s john….  can you detect my digital sarcasm?  you’re john alright — complete with all the plusses and the minuses… (HELP!  I need somebody…) 

all of this…

 and all of this…

 

if i am george, i can be proud of that.  george was the w.p.wensk of the band anyways — realistic and somewhat cynical.

roughty, as usual, you’re the funniest one on this blog.  i can always count on you to crack my ass up everytime i log on here.  i liked stoney’s reference to your trumpeteering and wish i could relive those days (with the volume turned down slightly).  however, i don’t think you’re the paul.  just the same, the trumpet connection is a hard one to top.  however, roughty, your commentary on the strokes is worth revisiting when your musical taste grows up a little bit… 

roughty, we are the VA connection on this blog, and it’s time we formed some solidarity.  you need to give up on your shitty giants and start being a real football fan — a skins fan.  ps — the mets suck.  they’re going down the toilet as we speak.

finally, i gotta say, you guys are all running a great (if not heavily trafficked) blog, and i hope to contribute with a higher frequency in the future.  the braves are coming on strong, and you all better wait and see how they’ll dominate each of your respective “teams” — if they can so be called — once fall comes along.

last thing, i want to show you all some pics from last weekend’s fishing expedition.  not too many fish, but a couple interesting pics.

IMG_0075.jpgtadpoles

IMG_0022.jpg a copperhead swimming the river.  (i saw about 20 of these sonsabitches)

IMG_0021.jpg i did catch a few trout.

 IMG_0016.jpg look close and see a snapping turtle underneath that rock.

 IMG_0076.jpg who the hell is that guy?  oh well, at least he’s wearing a braves cap.

a final thought and maybe a shortie roll call just for shits and giggles —

i got no thoughts of my own, so i’ll leave you with a thought i stole from stoney’s counterpart.  take this to heart for real, guys.  he’s not regarded as a genius for nothing, i guess.

People say I’m lazy dreaming my life away,
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me,
When I tell that I’m doing Fine watching shadows on the wall,
Don’t you miss the big time boy you’re no longer on the ball?
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go,

most savage beatle:  george h.

fuckin right bitches.

 

 

Rubber Matches, Growing Up, Other Reflections and another Roll Call

the first category tag i clicked was worthless friday, cuz that’s what i’m in.  it’s fantastic.  finally some time to interact with the tech-junkies, alcoholics and weed-fiends who read this link-laden, anti-american, diaperlicious bloghole. 

has anybody noticed that politics are continuing to play a large role in our blog?!  i can’t believe that shit.  if you knew, (and most of you do), the authors, you’d be as surprised as me.  four years in the burg, and we never talked about it.  now it’s all over everything.  i think that comes along with growing older.  things we never cared about before are starting to look more and more important.  we’re all realizing our global citizenship, and i think it’s pretty encouraging.  now all we have to do is change the minds of all the fuckos in general society *(see stoney’s note about the a&f models on the airplane… these are the dipshits to whom i’m referring.) 

on another very different topic, there’s this issue going on in the baseball world.  my boy john smoltz won his 200th career decision last night.  i don’t need to remind any of you who the braves defeated.  i don’t need to tell you that they beat the metropolitans.  further, i don’t need to explain to any of you that this win brough the braves record against the mets to 6 wins and 3 losses on the season.  no, i don’t need to mention any of these things.  why am i talking about it then?  to hurt your sensitive yankee feelings?  no.  to rub salt into your still-smarting wounds from last october?  of course not.  well, i’ll tell you why.  the braves are currently recruiting new fans, and if you all have been converted over the past few days, just let me know, and i’ll be happy to provide a letter of recommendation.  no guarantees, but it’s at least a 50-50 they’ll accept you.  last night’s prodigious victory over the hated mets was a rubber match.  “what is a rubber match?” all of you except the sport-savvy roughty might be asking yourselves.  again, i’ll explain it for you.  in a 3-game series, if each team wins one of the first two games, game three is the rubber match.  in a 7-game series that’s tied at three games each, game seven is the rubber match.  check out this helpful wiki article on the topic.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubber_match

what’s the point of this discussion? it’s not just to make fun of the sucky mets.  in fact, i want to bring it back to politics.  since i’ve been old enough to think about politics, there have been two presidents.  (during bush the elder’s administration, i didn’t understand anything at all about it.)  these presidents have been billy clinton and george dubya bush — a democrat and a republican.  in 2008, we’ll have the rubber match between these two political powerhouses.  as in sports, this rubber match will play a big role on the way our generation will be viewed.  will our generation be defined by the shitty republicans or the shitty democrats?  lord only knows.  i got a guess, but it’s just that — a guess.  so i won’t even mention it here.  in a baseball rubber match, all we can do is drink beer and root for our own version of the good guys.  last night, my team won, and i was happy.  roughty’s team lost, and i’m sure he drowned on his tears.  in politics, however, we can play the game and get involved.  we can be the shortstop who turns the double play, or we can be the asshole who lets the ball roll right between his legs.  (by the by, what team was he on again?  hahaha.)  either way, in politics, we don’t have to sit on the sidelines.  we can cast our votes and join in the action, right?  here’s the other big difference.  if i make a throwing error, and the winning run scores for the other team, the game is over and i immediately know who won.  if i hit the walk-off homer, it’s conclusive.  i’m the big winner.  with politics, it’s not so cut and dry.  i might cast my vote and be all happy for a couple years after my selected puppet wins.  then, out of nowhere, he blows some country off the map, and my walk-off homer turns into a “you-blew-it” game ending error. that’s why, when this year’s political rubber match comes along, i’ll be drinking beer and watching from the sidelines.  the punchline of this discourse — do yourself a favor and don’t vote.  vote for your favorite amer. idol.  vote for which of the stars dances best.  vote for the best apple pie you ate at the county fair.  don’t vote for the president.  you’ll invariably be sorry!

thus ends the politics of this post.

i’m still going to school.  it still sucks.  i also work at a school.  that, too, is no good.  i am trying to learn about the material required for my degree, but all i keep learning about is that everybody only cares about money.  the only question my peers and superiors ask themselves is, “how can i make the most money off this situation?”  it’s sad to think that this is the world we’re trying to earn membership into.  maybe the solution is to drop out and move to an island and try to grow coconuts for food and decorative brassieres.  my ridiculous boss’s boss’s boss’s boss volunteered me today to take part in some terrible task around the office.  my autonomy is non-existant.  i don’t decide what i do at all.  they tell me what to do, and i do it.  it’s bad for one’s psychology.  you’ve all been there.  i guess the right thing to do is just grin and bear it until retirement… in like 60 years.  one more thing about work, i had to make a presentation yesterday to a room full of suits.  i wore a rainbow colored (ambiguously androgenous) plaid shirt untucked and my oldest, rattiest pants.  i gave a great presentation.  (probably because dank wasn’t there flicking his damned zippo to distract me.)  after this, i got an email from my boss’s boss who told me that i should have dressed nicer.  this is a big old problem in our society.  why in the world do people still judge you based on the clothes you wear?  i’ll tell you.  it’s because they’re terrible idiots who don’t know any better.  and these are the people who i’m scrambling to compete with as a peer…  sad.

well, mr dank nuggets is in, so let the fun begin.  in honor of him, i’m taking this opportunity to post yet another savage roll call.  feast your eyes on the following collection:

most savage cartoon character:  Monterey Jack — he’ll whip your ass and then console you in a lovely aussie accent.

honorable mention:  Nermal — fresh off the boat from abu dhabi

least savage cartoon character:  Rita and Runt — an ill-fated space-filler in an otherwise exceptional show

most savage world leader:  Queen of Jordan — rules with an iron fist and a lovely pair of jumblies

honorable mention:  Stalin — (translation of caption:  respect the moustache.  fear the moustache.  obey the moustache.)

least savage world leader:  Jacques Chirac (someone either just snuck up him, or he was presented with a lovely quiche.)

most savage cereal mascot:  Sonny (cocoa puffs) — this guy has “junkie” written all over his face

honorable mention:  Andy Milonakis (fruity pebbles)

least savage ceareal mascot:  Tony (frosted flakes) — why don’t you find a gayer bandana.  we’re not all convinced you’re a homo yet.

most savage car model of all times:  AMC Eagle (no competition)

honorable mention:  El Camino (the original cross-over vehicle)

least savage car model of all times:  ford tempo (my first car)

most savage blogger:  suityourself (no photo available)

least savage blogger:  you (look in the mirror and recognize your inferiority.)

finally, most savage drugs:  steriods

least savage drugs:  whipits (you’ll freeze your lungs)

Star Wars

If Star Wars were real, are we the Empire or the Rebels?

Think about it. If Star Wars were the real shit, whose team would we be on?

I am an American who fully supports my country. I don’t want us to die. However, I think we are severely fucked up, and the shit we are doing is wrong on a number of different levels, that I’m not going to get into in detail. I’ll leave that up to the smart, serious people.

America = Empire from Star Wars

Death Star– we have the most badass, huge motherfucking ships all over the world. Airplanes, crazy missiles, scout planes, nuclear submarines….Right now, we are cruising our military in the Persian Gulf, playing strategic war games to show Iran that we will fuck them up if they don’t stop trying to make nuclear weapons.

Dominance of the Universe– we want to control the whole world and its resources. If we can’t control a specific territory or resource, we want to make nice, so that they can be incorporated into our existence and we can both benefit off of our mutual powers. If you don’t think so, then what do you think?

Use of torture to persuade rebels to give themselves up– lucky for the Rebels, Princess Leia somehow withstood the floating black needle torture machine. I’m sure not all of them did as well as she did. Guantanomo?

Bounty hunters and mercenaries to track down our worst, underground enemies– Boba Fett is the same as all these private military contractors running around in the mountains of the Middle East, trying to find Osama Bin Laden or other guys like that.

Am I stretching it? Maybe. But is it really that far of a stretch? Hell no, it’s not that far of a stretch, fuckheads.

If Luke Skywalker was real, would he come from a barren farm in the Midwest US, or a barren farm from Pakistan?

Was Uncle Owen in the WTC when they came down? Or was Uncle Owen killed by some badass fuckers looking for Obi Wan (underground leader [osama])? Do you see what that means? Luke Skywalker was ultimately catapulted into his position after stormtroopers killed his Uncle Owen, when they were looking for Obi Wan Kenobi….How many Uncle Owens do you think US soldiers and mercenaries have killed looking for Osama….right now the running count for civilian casualties is somewhere between 60k and 600k in Iraq, depending on who you ask GO HERE FOR A BREAKDOWN OF DIFFERENT COUNTS………I imagine that there are a shitload of Uncle Owens, and a shitload of little Skywalkers perfecting their ninja lightsaber skills to come kick the shit out of us. Substitute light sabers for IEDs or suicide bombs…

Are you on Luke’s team or the emperor’s team?

As an American citizen who sincerely does love his country, the only solution I can see (from the Empire’s team, which I am on), is to work for change within the system, to build the Death Star into a Death Star Party Bus. Or something like that.

death-star-2.jpg

On the effects of capitalism, and coming back from war without a leg

Capitalism means a lot of things, blablabla money, blabla society, but I want to talk about what capitalism means to me, as an individual sitting in my office, wasting time by writing about basically nothing.

Capitalism, as I know it, means that you work really hard to gain a set of skills (usually specialized) which you can then sell to your employer, thereby earning money, thereby buying food, a place to live, clothes, and anything else that you can afford.  There are about 300 million people in the United States who are de facto a cog in the capitalist wheel, just on the fact that in our society, you need money to eat and have a roof, and to have money, you probably have to sell yourself to someone richer than you, who can then use you as a tool to make more money. Or, you are dependent upon money that has been generated in such a fashion, which you did not help to “make.”  You, my friend, are a free-loader.

So, you are part of a whole. You, sitting there at your computer, are a part of this whole. For the purposes of this piece, let’s call that whole a “machine,” something that is working on a scale that is bigger than you, without your approval or recognition, regardless of whether or not you want it to.  We could call it a “blob” if we wanted to, it does not really matter.  Machines are more fun, though, because it creates a sharp contrast to being “human”

Humans are warm and machines are cold.  Humans (supposedly) care about each other and have feelings, whereas machines (supposedly) don’t care about anything really, and cannot feel.

I believe that the machine does not care about the individual humans that are running it.  The machine cannot feel pain or pity or anything; it only is. I believe that some people can cut themselves off from what it means to be human, to stop feeling, in order to become a better wheel for the machine.

———–

I wrote all that like 2 weeks ago then dumped it on account of its general blandness.

Here is an article about the US troops coming back fucked up, and not getting any help after they have their legs blown up and have nightmares.

The army lady goes, “I think we have the institutional structures in place, but at the individual level, some things don’t happen.”

In other words, we have the time, money and resources (institutional structures), but no one is taking the initiative to help out these kids (individual level).  That, my friends, is fucked up.

I knew a kid freshman year of college who was a skinny little bastard, like 5’5 or something, really skinny, etc.  He joined ROTC, and while I was studying 17th century British Lit junior year, he was setting up road checkpoints in Baghdad.  Shit, he might be there right now.

He moved in next door to me randomly at the end of my brilliant college career, and I asked him if he killed somebody.  I don’t give a shit, I’m the one fucking paying for his gun, and he is defending my “freedom,” so I fucking asked him if he ever killed anybody.

He said, “No” but told me some fucked up stories, one about how he had a bead on this dude’s head driving a truck. He was going to blast this dude, but he didn’t because the guy stopped, and he didn’t have a bomb on him after all.

That is a fucked up story to me.

If my buddy got his leg blown off in Iraq, I hope somebody would help him when he got back, make him feel better about it and shit, maybe try to make the nightmares go away.  I can literally only imagine the intensity of going to war, and I bet that’s all you can do too. Halo doesn’t count, shit head.

——-

Where do these two stories meet?  I don’t know.  Capitalism is fucked, and makes people like machines to become better $ producers.  We are dehumanized (made to stop feeling) in order to become better worker bees for the good of the whole.

It gets fucked up when the bees break a leg, or get shot, or freak out at their desk, and they get swept aside for the good of this fat ugly nation.  Fuck that, I feel a lot of shit, and I guess that’s why I started this gay blog.

If you or your buddies go to war, I hope you come back un-shot and ok, and I also hope that you don’t have to shoot someone else.

Wait a Minute… Nascar?!

when my old man told me he was going to see a nascar race this weekend, that’s what i said.  really, how often to southern males see their first nascar race at age 46?  my guess is not that often. 

nascar is a pretty polarizing force down here in the dirty south.  when it comes to white people, in general you either love it or you hate it.  when it comes to black people, you just hate it… or so i’ve heard.  you know, for decades, it was a struggle to get all the country club golf courses to open their doors to black people.  there was some lingering intolerance among the rich crackers, and it’s taken quite a while, but now black people can get dressed up and gloriously swing their mallets at the tiny balls to their hearts’ content.  however, the situation is much different with regard to nascar.  most black people i’ve talked to about the subject (and before you make any assumption, i’ll admit, it hasn’t been a whole hell of a lot of black people) say that they aren’t interested in going to a race track with a bunch of drunk red-necks.  to be honest, i can’t say i blame them… i mean, think about it.  all the competition and those fuel fumes combined with lots of beers could make this a down-right unpleasant experience if you look any different.  as an alternate example, think about the Borat scene where he’s singing the kazakstan (sp?) national anthem at the white bread rodeo.   it went over like a lead balloon, and Borat was white!  my point is, black people and nascar typically don’t mix, (no matter how many o-g’s dale earnhardt junior puts in his commercials). 

white people know this, too.  in fact, for many red-necks, this seems to be a major element of the allure.  lots of this kind of folks go to the race in order to be in a homogenously white environment.  they get off on the old-timiness of it i guess.  my father isn’t that kind of guy.  while he is from the south and has a moderately red neck, he works with almost exclusively black people and (aside from a few good-natured jokes) has never said anything that would indicate to me that he even notices skin color of anyone.  that’s why i was so perplexed when he told me he was going to the nascar race in bristol, tennessee.  i tried to be rational — maybe he’s just going in order to humor a pal who invited him.  maybe he wants to get away from the town for a few days.  maybe he’s not going to the race and is just using it for an alibi.  but all the time i was lying to myself.  deep in my heart, i knew the ugly truth.  my father, at age 46, was becoming a fully-fledged red-neck.  all the tv commercials combined with the peer pressure were finally taking their toll. 

tonight, as i type this blog, i can only imagine what’s become of my poor old man.  i can see it all now… john deere cap adjusted two sizes too small for his dome, a flannel (larry the cable guy) cut-off shirt, a nasty beer gut and flags with his new favorite driver’s number on them dangling from his truck’s windows.  i know that my disappointment must be more profound than that which he felt when he walked up on me smoking a bowl on his back porch some 5 years ago.  what will his neighbors think?  will property value diminish?  in considering all these things, i started to think more deeply about nascar…

maybe some of you sportscenter junkies have heard that toyota cars are now racing in nascar.  that’s cool, except that the nascar fad is moving across the pacific ocean and is becoming all the rage in japan.  japanese kids with tony stewart lunchboxes and shit.  40-year-old japanese rednecks sporting jeff gordon t-shirts.  sounds harmless enough, right?  Wrong!  since american football is not popular overseas, nba is only popular in china and whatever the fuck country dirk nowitski’s from, and baseball is (excepting the new boston pitcher) played out, nascar is now our biggest sports-related export to asia.  these drunken red-neck fests are the only pictures of american sporting life that the japanese are seeing.  sad, sad, sad.  so that we’re all on the same page, let’s clarify.  right now, it is my belief that japanese people think of americans as some bad-grammar-having, arab-killing, beer-drinking, car-racing sons of bitches.  not a pretty picture. 

we all know that that there’s more to american life than these things.  true, we like a delicious beer every now and again, but there are plenty of other things about american society that aren’t so bad.  the rock and roll music, mcdonald’s, playboy magazine — all of them more savage than the nascar imagery flooding tokyo’s consciousness as we speak.

 the way i see it, we have two options.  one — we can try and sabotage nascar and drive their dog and pony show out of business or, two — we can change the image of nascar so that it shows the brighter side of american existence.  this latter option seems the less illegal of the two.  in short, we’ve got to savagify nascar.  i’m blogging this right now in the hopes that you all will agree with me and make additional suggestions for the savagification of nascar; after all, it’s in all of our best interest.

i am no great thinker, so i’ll keep my suggestions brief.  first, we gotta make nascar enjoyable to all colors of people.  maybe if we invite snoop d – o – double g to be the master of ceremonies…  i can hear it now, “gizzentlemen, stizzart your engizzles.”  that’ll give nascar the multicultural feel that is fitting of real american culture.  next, what about getting some hookers to get naked or something when the race is getting boring?  that will serve a manifold function with regard to the international viewers.  first, it’ll set a nice example.  see, guys, we let our women out in public.  also, the naked hookers will subliminally encourage the japanese to buy the american axe body spray, thus stimulating our waning economy. 

we all need to think outside the box if there’s any hope of salvaging our tarnished image, but i think that with your help, we can win the war against the red-neckization of the american image in the international community.  please pray for my father.  thank you, and good day.

I am lying to you right now

By definition, a large percentage of the shit that I talk about, or shit that I did, or shit that I’m planning on doing, might be breaking city, state and federal laws. I could write a post or two that could really really really fuck over my public record, were the police to do some serious IP sleuthing, come to my work, and arrest me. I imagine they could, but I also imagine that they won’t.

I believe that the story of James Frey is very pertinent to my blog. James Frey wrote a book, got famous for it, and then got everybody pissed off at him because they thought he was a “liar.”  Let me tell you fuckheads one thing.  If you are a “writer,” then you are a “liar.” Period. We are sitting here writing stories, trying to get people to read our shit. Sometimes, the story would be more funny, less embarrassing, or just much cooler if you just put a little lie, a little grease for the excitement.  Like I told you in my first or second post, I am a fucking liar. I guarantee that I will lie to you, and if you don’t like that, or if you think that is wrong or immoral, go read the New York Times, LA Times, London Times, or maybe some of the President’s press releases. Because in those fine places, THERE ARE NO LIES.

YA FUCKING RIGHT. EVERYBODY LIES. GET OVER IT.

I leave out huge sections of stories that really happened, so that I don’t get arrested by the FBI.  I also make shit up, so that I look better, or the story makes more sense. If you can handle that, then we might be able to establish a serious relationship.  The weekend is coming, my day is basically done, so anything else I might or might not post this morning/afternoon will just be afterbirth. Have fun this weekend.