Thursday, February 28, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Friday, January 18, 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.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Stay at War
Dear Diary:
Woke up in a foul mood today because a wretched lying narcissist is still going to be "leading" the government for the next four years. Foul because more than half my "fellow" Americans are really my enemy for putting him there again. An extreme assessment perhaps, but I don't know how else to describe people who have abandoned, if not work to destroy on an hourly basis, the Constitution of the United States. Listen you pantywaisted candy asses - I'm not part of one big American Family, that rises and falls together. You're not my family and Barack is not our father, you sick twisted adolescents. Grow the fuck up. The catalog of crimes is out there, thoroughly documented, so no reason to get it into here. You ignore it like a teenager ignores the overflowing kitchen garbage can.
Seeing as the New Year is just around the corner, it's not too soon to put together some preliminary New Year's resolutions.
1. Stop eating Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Of course, Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream is just one of any number of corporate brands that soft serve the enemy. Substitute your enemy brand of choice. Whatever. I'm not buying their shit anymore. I'm not buying their services. So, "Brand X", I will make a concerted effort to avoid your crap. Maybe I'll lose some weight in the process. Bonus! My cool factor will drop further into negative territory, though.
2. I will tell my Obama-supporting neighbors to go fuck themselves. Want to borrow my ladder? Go fuck yourself. Want me to come to your "Winter Holiday" cocktail party, go fuck your merry-self. I'm not associating with you. You're a dangerous threat to the country and I will work to destroy you and your ideas. Now fuck off but not before getting the fuck off my lawn, you little commie symps. And no, your kid can't use my basketball hoop.
3. Being the political black sheep in the family necessarily means that mom and siblings - all moronic Hopesters - can also go fuck themselves. Sister One needs me to move her air conditioner from her window before winter arrives? Sister, winter is no longer coming; it's here. So Sis, go fuck yourself. Call the EPA. Or better yet, hire someone who's been unemployed for 99 weeks to take it out of the window. Mom wants me to help her with moving some boxes of holiday decor downstairs? Hey Mom, go fuck yourself. Hire a small holiday house decorating company to do it, after all, your Savior is such a champion of small business. TANSTAAFL! Oh, you want to spend Thanksgiving together? No, stuff that turkey up your ass. Not this year. I won't sit at the same table with you while you form an "O" with your hands and thank CTHULHU for widening the fissure sucking this country into Hell.
4. Ridicule the President and his minions on a daily basis. Catalog their crimes. Teach them to my kids. Expose the lies, duplicity and danger. In other words, turn family dinners into a scary hour where Dad rants about the national poltergeists haunting his psyche. Pass the salt, kids, and finish up those 20 oz sodas.
5. Blame all household austerity on Obama, leftists, the neighbors and grandma. Sorry Junior, you're not getting that iPhone 5, because, one, you're a damn kid and shouldn't have expensive high tech devices without earning the money working in some soulless fabric covered square for a few years, and two, Obama took the money I would have used to buy it out of guilt because of the horrible peer pressure you face and gave it to our neighbors so they could get free contraceptives for their teenage daughters. You want the money back, go bang their daughters. In this way, we build quiet outrage around confiscatory taxes.
6. Add to arsenal. "Nuff said on that, but I suggest you stay the fuck away from my house if you're my neighbor, a leftist or grandma.
7. Live in opposition to everything and everyone. Be quiet about it or loud. Mix it up. Stay at war.
Woke up in a foul mood today because a wretched lying narcissist is still going to be "leading" the government for the next four years. Foul because more than half my "fellow" Americans are really my enemy for putting him there again. An extreme assessment perhaps, but I don't know how else to describe people who have abandoned, if not work to destroy on an hourly basis, the Constitution of the United States. Listen you pantywaisted candy asses - I'm not part of one big American Family, that rises and falls together. You're not my family and Barack is not our father, you sick twisted adolescents. Grow the fuck up. The catalog of crimes is out there, thoroughly documented, so no reason to get it into here. You ignore it like a teenager ignores the overflowing kitchen garbage can.
Seeing as the New Year is just around the corner, it's not too soon to put together some preliminary New Year's resolutions.
1. Stop eating Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Of course, Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream is just one of any number of corporate brands that soft serve the enemy. Substitute your enemy brand of choice. Whatever. I'm not buying their shit anymore. I'm not buying their services. So, "Brand X", I will make a concerted effort to avoid your crap. Maybe I'll lose some weight in the process. Bonus! My cool factor will drop further into negative territory, though.
2. I will tell my Obama-supporting neighbors to go fuck themselves. Want to borrow my ladder? Go fuck yourself. Want me to come to your "Winter Holiday" cocktail party, go fuck your merry-self. I'm not associating with you. You're a dangerous threat to the country and I will work to destroy you and your ideas. Now fuck off but not before getting the fuck off my lawn, you little commie symps. And no, your kid can't use my basketball hoop.
3. Being the political black sheep in the family necessarily means that mom and siblings - all moronic Hopesters - can also go fuck themselves. Sister One needs me to move her air conditioner from her window before winter arrives? Sister, winter is no longer coming; it's here. So Sis, go fuck yourself. Call the EPA. Or better yet, hire someone who's been unemployed for 99 weeks to take it out of the window. Mom wants me to help her with moving some boxes of holiday decor downstairs? Hey Mom, go fuck yourself. Hire a small holiday house decorating company to do it, after all, your Savior is such a champion of small business. TANSTAAFL! Oh, you want to spend Thanksgiving together? No, stuff that turkey up your ass. Not this year. I won't sit at the same table with you while you form an "O" with your hands and thank CTHULHU for widening the fissure sucking this country into Hell.
4. Ridicule the President and his minions on a daily basis. Catalog their crimes. Teach them to my kids. Expose the lies, duplicity and danger. In other words, turn family dinners into a scary hour where Dad rants about the national poltergeists haunting his psyche. Pass the salt, kids, and finish up those 20 oz sodas.
5. Blame all household austerity on Obama, leftists, the neighbors and grandma. Sorry Junior, you're not getting that iPhone 5, because, one, you're a damn kid and shouldn't have expensive high tech devices without earning the money working in some soulless fabric covered square for a few years, and two, Obama took the money I would have used to buy it out of guilt because of the horrible peer pressure you face and gave it to our neighbors so they could get free contraceptives for their teenage daughters. You want the money back, go bang their daughters. In this way, we build quiet outrage around confiscatory taxes.
6. Add to arsenal. "Nuff said on that, but I suggest you stay the fuck away from my house if you're my neighbor, a leftist or grandma.
7. Live in opposition to everything and everyone. Be quiet about it or loud. Mix it up. Stay at war.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
May 1 - Victims of Communism Day
Because in some quarters of the world today is International Workers' Day, in other quarters it is Victims of Communism Remembrance Day. You are either in one camp or the other. No "buts"' allowed today.
And I'm not going to insert any of the symbols or propaganda of socialism or communism in this space today.
No Red Stars.
No hammers and sickles.
No giant red flags.
No pop art posters showing square jawed, buzz cut commies looking forward into the future while standing on the necks of running dogs and wreckers.
No pictures of Obama.
Useful idiots this very second are making ready with all of that crap to march in capitals around the world hailing socialism's triumphs. And yeah, socialism, communism, whatever.
You fuckers march on the bones of more than 100 million victims to your religion.
We aren't forgetting them. We aren't forgiving you.
And I'm not going to insert any of the symbols or propaganda of socialism or communism in this space today.
No Red Stars.
No hammers and sickles.
No giant red flags.
No pop art posters showing square jawed, buzz cut commies looking forward into the future while standing on the necks of running dogs and wreckers.
No pictures of Obama.
Useful idiots this very second are making ready with all of that crap to march in capitals around the world hailing socialism's triumphs. And yeah, socialism, communism, whatever.
You fuckers march on the bones of more than 100 million victims to your religion.
We aren't forgetting them. We aren't forgiving you.
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