Sunday, June 29, 2003
Hey, gentle readers, y'all should do what I just did...go back in my archives and read everything again. It will extend your life by 3 years, and cures acne. Go ahead, I'll wait.
Oh, and Blogger is up to their usual shit, so the last couple of weeks may be fucked up. I'm working on it.
Fuck fuck fukkity fuck...
Shit, I am so tired of these self appointed so-called conservatives that pollute the blogosphere, and thus the world. Lee at 'Right Thinking From The Left Coast' links to his friend Jim K over at 'Right Thinking', so I figure "why not?" and zip over there and the first thing that greets my eyes is Jim K's mindless diatribe against Ann Coulter, who is quite possibly the Queen of Conservatism...and this 'conservative' know-nothing is hoping she falls to her death, and calling her a bitch. The only persons who have earned the right to call Ann a bitch are liberals, to whom she is clearly and happily their nemesis...ergo, Jim K is a liberal. That can be the only conclusion. Lee does do some good work, though his mind does have a touch of the rot, too. You cannot be pro-infanticide and call yourself a conservative. You cannot be pro-homosexual and call yourself a conservative. It's a litmus test. Deal with it.
And talking shit about Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh means you have added idiot to liberal in your CV. These people are Icons. I have only ever disagreed once with Rush in all of the years I've been a fan. I disagree with Savage a lot, but he is still more conservative than these self-appointed 'Right Thinkers' could ever hope to be.
I blame the public schools, though Lee's one saving grace is that he probably went to other schools around the world, though that is no guarantee that those schools aren't rotten to the bone as well.
To whom it may concern: Read Ann's 'Scandal' and 'Treason', then try to refute anything she says, and if you can't, fess up and be a man, or just keep on blogging your dumb shit. I have yet to see a liberal refute anything she has written that she cannot deftly counter-refute.
- pro life
- pro Judeo-Christian agenda
- anti homosexual agenda
- anti just about anything liberals are pro...I hold oxygen suspect because liberals breathe it...
Conservatism is like pornography...difficult to describe, but I know it when I see it, and I don't see it in Jim K's post reviling the Goddess Ann. I have a Favorites folder for Conservative blogs, and one for liberals...guess where Jim K's just got moved to?
Saturday, June 28, 2003
As if I don't have enough shit to worry about already...
Parents, watch out for people around your kids using these new phones that transmit photos. If I'm at the park with my kids and I see some guy pointing one of these at my kids, I'm going to come up behind him and slice his ear off.
If I was a pervert, out shopping for kids, that is how I would do it...and don't trust women, either...
when I was about five years old, my mother had to take me on a train trip somewhere. In those days, she looked like Elizabeth Taylor's pretty sister, and I have always been pretty, and I guess we became a target. A beautiful woman alone with her beautiful child...
anyway, she took me into the women's restroom to potty me, and she tells me she began to get an uncomfortable feeling. She took me up to the sink to wash my hands and hers, and as the water was running, something made her turn around fast and look behind her, and she startled this woman and made the woman drop her hypodermic syringe...in those days, hypos were made of glass, so it shattered on the floor, and the woman snarled in frustration and rushed out of the bathroom. My mom tells me that she heard her train being called for boarding, so we left quickly ourselves and hustled on board.
White slavery was all the rage in those days, and still is. There are a huge amount of disappearances involving both adults and children. These people know how to pick them, and are professionals. I suspect that there are hotels and motels all around the country where there are special rooms where special guests are chosen by certain criteria, and they are never seen again.
Watch for people invading your privacy with these phone cams...they make shopping so much easier now...
Fucking Blogger is starting to really piss me off, but I have too much other shit to do to try to learn a new system. If they don' fix their shit soon, I'm gonna dump them and start my own web page. What a lame load of shit this new Blogger is turning out to be...
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Two-year-old Amber Cox-Cody spent the last few hours of her life alone Wednesday, in the back of a broiling day care van, strapped in a car seat. She was found dead after eight hours, forgotten by day care workers outside the Children's Rainbow Learning Center on Macon Road.
I do not know when I have read a more horrifying sentence in my life. I read on, and I find that this so-called day care center is federally funded as part of the push to get welfare parents back to work.
Oh. Well, there are a lot of white folks on welfare, and then I read this:
State officials said the day care center's background check of the van driver, Shawnda Burton, came back clean.
White folks don't often name their spawn 'Shawnda', so now I can feel a little more relieved that it wasn't a little white girl left to roast to death in an oven that would have adequately cooked a chicken in eight hours, until the clear juice ran out of it's nicely crackling skin...
So, it was a little black baby, killed by an ignorant black bitch...I feel so much better, now. Do you think the parents are going to complain about how their benefits have been reduced by one child?
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
I change the channel when...
...any Clinton appears, or any member of their failed, disgraceful administration.
...Any mention of Sc*** Pe***sen, or the wife and baby he murdered.
...entertainment news that doesn't involve gratuitous tit display.
...sports, unless it's a fight or a fiery crash.
...any liberal pundit appears to talk (lie) about anything.
...Bill O'Reilly's vile Irish mug appears.
...Friends comes on, or any teen dramedy or family sitcom appears...ugh.
...most commercials come on that don't involve beer and/or The Twins or Victoria's Secret.
I have worn out several remotes jamming on the mute button...I have yet to shoot or throw anything at the TV. I used to fire suction darts to cover up the faces of people I hate on TV, but I got tired of getting up to remove the darts. I hate commercials, but I love infomercials...go figure. Especially Thigh Master ones...I can tell that vixen wants me by the way she gives me those smoky looks while she spreads her thighs for me over and over and over....but I can't watch the Windsor Pilates one cuz just when I start to get all excited that fucker Danny Glover appears and some product shifting occurs during shipping...what an ugly liberal ape he is.
Sunday, June 22, 2003
I signed up for the Emode dating service a while ago just for grins, and they keep emailing me pictures of my 'matches'...the latest one is some dumb bitch letting her dog lick her on the mouth...thanks for the warning, twat.
There's about three hotties that I can tell are probably doing it for a lark, like me...the rest are these pathetically disgusting cows that I cannot imagine what they were thinking when they conspired to inflict a photo of themselves upon the world...don't these manatees have mirrors?
The more I surf through blogdom, the more I see bloggers apologizing to 'their readers' for not writing, and promising to try to do better. Are they getting paid or something? What ever happened to "Fuck You! We do what we want!"...? I do this for me...if you benefit, yipee, if not...
It seems regurgitating one's dreams in public has gotten popular in blogdom as well, so here's one that has me sipping bourbon and feeling off-centered on a Sunday morning before 10am:
I was desperately trying to get to my oldest son's High School football game where he was quarterbacking, and every obstacle that could get in my way, did. There was a flood, but I made it around the washed out road...there was lightning, and trees fell, but I finally made it to the stadium, and trying to find a parking space in this muddy field was impossible, so I finally said screw it and dumped the car and headed to the stadium entrance on foot...it was clogged with people, so I ended up jumping the fence and pushing and shoving my way through until suddenly, there was no resistance at all, and people began streaming back out towards the parking lot...I burst out onto an upper landing, hoping for just a glimpse of my son, but the band was filing off the field, and groundskeepers were beginning to clean up...I asked someone where the after game party for the players was going to be and he pointed in the direction of the other side of the stadium from where I was. Again, I ran and struggled to get over there, even vaulting a fire that someone had started to burn the leftover paper decorations and trimmings from a high school football game, and when I got to the picnic area where the party had been, everybody had already gotten on to several dark green, military buses, and were pulling away from me. They were all in some kind of drab military uniform, and I spotted my son in the window of one bus as he passed by, and I screamed and waved to get his attention, but he didn't seem to see me and the bus pulled away...
I never made it to one of my sons football games...ever. Oh, I tried, but the divorce, work, and all of life's other petty bullshit kept me away from him. I regret this more than I regret the death's of some of my loved one's that have passed on...
Saturday, June 21, 2003
From the 'Who Gives A Shit' File...
Favorite Movie: 'Night of the Comet'. My favorite movies involve the near complete destruction of humanity.
Most Anticipated Movie: '28 Days Later'...I expect to have the shit scared out of me. I don't know why I see movies like this. Remind me to tell you what I did to an usher who startled me during the premiere of 'Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things' sometime...
Favorite Song: 'Stealin', by Uriah Heep...that, and 'Behind Blue Eyes' by the Who could be my life anthems...sad.
Favorite Twat: Britney Spears...I spot my undies over her...in the front, dumbass...
This is kinda fun!
Friday, June 20, 2003
Naar s s i ss i pp i
Everywhere I go in blogdom, I run into folks crowing about hits to their site, and how many readers they have, and how popular they are. I hate humans. Having a 'counter', or comments, or posting photos of myself (as pretty as I am...) I just cannot imagine the level of needyness this sort of behavior requires. I left an email link on my blog, and people drop by to say hi ever so often. I have yet to get a hate mail. Why do I blog? I dunno...maybe it keeps some ijjit who desperately needs a choking alive to waste space for one more day...
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
I've just ordered all new springs for my magazines..call it OCD, but I can't have an empty mag laying around. I've been hearing enough tales from Iraq about pistol mags malfunctioning, that it makes me nervous about mine. I've heard stories of guys having all the bullets just fall out of their Beretta mags onto the ground...that is a special nightmare of mine.
You know, some people just need killing. You can beat around the bush all you like, but in the end, there are a multitude of idiots who need to have their heels beating on the floor while blood bubbles pop in their nostrils, and they make frog sounds while their iris's expand and contract...I'm here to tell you, I volunteer for that duty. I love to talk shit, and admire a good shit talker, but there just comes a time when the sharp smell of cordite and the ringing in my ears from discharge just seems right, and makes me happy. Some folk's shit needs to be fucked up, and I hope and pray that I get an opportunity to be in on it.
Don't get me wrong...I enjoy the interplay across the net as much as the next person, but the shit talking slackers, crips and retards that have no clue that their life expectancy is about three seconds in the same room with me when I'm likkered up and they blurt their bullshit have no idea how lucky they are to be on the other side of an IP address and a good firewall. Stay inside, little grubs, cuz I keep bail money in my wallet to get out from an assault charge from kicking your ass, and I know how to find you from my copy of the police report.
Oh, and some of you cocksuckers think you know me? Think again...
Sunday, June 15, 2003
Ahhh, Father's Day
Every Dad that dies on Father's Day is really gonna fuck it up for the whole family for...like, forever, you know? Do us all a favor, Dad...do not croak on or near a significant, card intensive holiday. Oh, and sorry for all the booze and fatty food presents I've gotten you over the years to hasten your demise.
Gonna Barby-Cue tomorrow!...got a big pile of fat steaks marinating...gonna pick up some Kentucky Fried Chicken cole slaw and biscuits and puhtatersngravy so very little actual cooking has to occur, and that shit is good!
...Multiple beers, bourbons, and red wines, too...ummm, gud!
I wonder if the kids I've made that don't know I'm their Dad are making me cards? Sweet little crayola creations with their mommy and this hazy silhouette of some man they've never met...aw heck, what am I thinking...my own kids who know
me have hardly seen me in the last ten years...still, I love them all, and would give any one of them both my kidneys, and my heart if they needed it, without a seconds thought...
Saturday, June 14, 2003
I take back almost everything I've said that was nice about MSNBC...Lester Holt, Scarborough, and Savage are the only people on that channel who don't make me want to puke. And FOX is crawling back up their vagina and sewing the lips shut. What a load of twats they
are turning out to be. One of the main reasons I will never be on any of those shows is that I'd have to be chained to the chair and shot so full of Thorazine I'd drool til my head collapsed. The reason for this would be my incessant stabbing and punching of the participants…can you imagine sitting next to Susan Estrogenitch and not grabbing her by the hair and slamming her face on the table over and over and…whew, I’m getting wood just thinking about it…well, a twig anyway. I cannot watch those ‘Shout When It’s Not Your Turn’ shows, my babies learn too many cusswords and my wife gives me The Look. Seems those words come out during Sunday School and panic the Faithful. Another reason I don’t go to church. I guess when the pastor makes a salient point you’re susposed to murmur “Amen”, and not shout out “Fuckin-A Right On, Padre!”
Well, the Moxie Wars may be subsiding, or they may be smoldering just under the surface. Silly shit however you look at it, but fun…war is good. I’ve considered taking time out of my busy schedule to go and snap a certain neck, but that sounds like way too much effort.
For the record, Moxie.nu and Dawn are 4 and 5 fingers respectively on my bone scale, but Moxiepop is both
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Is it just me, or does Pat Buchanan sound like someone simultaneously punched him in the gut, and then cinched a choke chain around his nut sack? What a gay sounding pecker-stain he turned out to be. I used to like him, and then he turned into a left-wing sister-fucking Nazi fruit. As difficult as it must be, he still manages to give Liberaltarians a bad name. I enjoy much of MSNBC's programming, now that they are competing (and winning, in my final opinion) with FOX news, but I check carefully to see if 'Buchanan & Press' is on before I go to that channel, because even a few seconds of that shit can suck your soul out by the fucking roots. I'm sure they frisk the crew for weapons before the show starts, because I can't see how anyone could be exposed to those two vile blowhards and not run amok. One of my wet dreams is to have Buchanan & Press, Bill O'Reilly, and Hannity and Colmes in a locked, dark racquet-ball court...
and give them each a chain saw that can't be turned off...
Bad Blood, Worthless Meat
I just love it when the Muddle East flares up. The Palestinkians always look so shocked and outraged after some Israeli gunship smokes a couple more of their murderers. I love the outraged 'what the fuck!' looks on their faces as they point and gesticulate and beat their chests. We need more of this sort of thing. I saw one stupid ragfucker blast his M16 into the air, and the string of hot empty brass hosed out over his shoulder and into the face of one of his fellow Ragellians...priceless!
And don't get me started on the stupid Israelis...why the uniform of the day for those saps isn't tight short pants and T-shirts I'll never understand. You see some fucker wearing something else, assume bomb and shoot the sonofabitch...simple. Oh well...crikey, I'd pay good money for this shit on pay-per-view.
Friday, June 06, 2003
Read this, or else...
I fixed the link...sorry.