Sunday, November 3, 2013

Friday, November 1, 2013

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Thursday, March 28, 2013


The Narwhal has speared my brain. I'm such a lightweight. Moving on to Jelly Beans now.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Lighten Up, Francis!

Ok, back to lame photography, beer, food, and cursing.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

On the Monster . . . Lance Armstrong

I don't care about Lance Armstrong, doped up or not, or that fat fuck, Obama-fawning huckster Oprah, who spends her time raising people like Armstrong up before us like they are gods. She's more reprehensible than him and will spend time in Hell interviewing super thin versions of the self she could never be. I don't think it matters that he so-called "doped" to win races. If he hadn't taken whatever it is he took, I still think he would have beat the crap out of those Euroweenies in their silly shorts. All I know about biking is that those bastards get in my way when I'm driving to work and if I could, I'd run them off Rock Creek Bridge. Now, Armstrong is a freak machine with or without enhancers. Oh, he lied. Shocker! The whole fucking sport is a lie designed to sell bikes at car prices. It's a dirty sport and has been since its inception. Armstrong is a liar and a prick because he cheated on his wife, betrayed his daughters and took up with that whore and environmental nutjob Sheryl Crow. That is more disturbing and damning to me than using thinners after riding 100 miles sucking in fecal dust from French goats. Yes, he lost half his nutsack and that's gotta be traumatic and he survived that because, that's right, he's a crazy extreme nutjob and he inspired a lot of people to kick cancer's ass as if they were extreme athletes. They also used deadly cocktails of drugs to do it, too. How fucking ironic?! (Put aside the possibility that his cancer was caused by his doping). So, he gets points for that. There's nothing natural about extreme sports anyway. I do not believe there is such a thing as "natural state" competition among extreme athletes. They are outliers and if they want to get further out there, dope away dickwads, dope away. I'm still not buying your special fucking Oakley wraps. Every single one of them is an egomaniacal narcissist prick who'd drain your blood and bottle it if they found out it had magical properties. They're vampires in our culture. Vampires lie, they suck out your essentials, and then they leave you empty. Lance Armstrong is a fucking vampire. Now he's been exposed and we're supposed to forgive him. Well, I wasn't fooled to begin with and I didn't invite that vampire into my house. Armstrong can take his wrist bracelet and suck it.