December 4th, 2007


Long Live Emperor Putin!

Am I right? If that guy isn't still running things this time twenty years from now, I'll eat my oversized fuzzy wool hat. Most likely with a side of borscht in honor of our immenent Russian takeover when America is fully IN the toilet.

Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, if Hillary Clinton wins the Democratic nom, I'm placing my vote elsewhere. I'll go green, I'll find some other third party candidate, I'll put all my sway into the Mickey Mouse / Donald Duck campaign. But I won't vote for that soulless shrew. She's only out for number 1 and how exactly is that different than G.W. Bush?

On the plus side, it looks like things are kind of falling apart for her campaign lately as she desperately attacks my boy Obama. All anyone's talking about now is how Hillary's Going Negative. And her numbers are slipping as a result. What she needs more than anything right now is for Bill Clinton to ejaculate on some fat woman's dress. Get the sympathy vote back on her side.

And the Republicans look about as despicable as ever. Mike Huckabee is your Christian Vote; Mitt Romney is your Rich Bastard Vote; Rudy Giuliani is your Crazy Warmongering Sonofabitch Vote; and John McCain is obviously your Black Vote.

I'm here to tell you right now, America, if you vote Giuliani in as our next president, you will miss the days when we had it so well with the G.W. Bush regime. That guy's about as stable as Britney Spears and Amy Winehouse at an 8-ball convention; he's a bigger liar than JonBenet Ramsey's parents; he's more of a scumbag than that self-hating homosexual bigot Larry Craig - and this is all rolled up into one pathetic, pitiful excuse for a man who brings up our nation's biggest tragedy every chance he gets. Because his only claim to fame is that he happened to be in charge when bad shit happened.

Eight years ago I was terrified. I knew we had Supreme Court Justices on the brink of death, we were hitting a recession, and this Bush guy was promising things that would cripple us economically for decades to come. Al Gore lost and I was downtrodden. Four years later, I was frantic. SURELY this country would see the error and pick the Anybody But Bush candidate! I'd never had so much invested in a campaign in my life, and I worked as diligently as I was capable to get John Kerry elected. Again, my man lost, only this time I was more numb than anything. I was like a hooker who just had the shit beaten out of me while being raped by three frat boys. I just laid there sobbing, clutching my knees to my chest and rocking myself to sleep.

Now it's, what, 2008? Right now you've found me comatose. I'm too beaten down to care anymore. Mike Huckabee wants to teach our kids that dinosaurs died out 2000 years ago and force everyone to pray to Jesus every night? Fine. Mitt Romney wants to overturn Roe V. Wade and force us all to read from the Book of Mormon? Sign me up. Fred Thompson wants to take a 4-year nap? I'm all for it. Giuliani wants to drop bombs on Iran, North Korea, Cuba, Venezuela, China and Japan? Fuck it, I'll enlist right now.

Make no mistake, this country is headed straight for the toilet. We're ripe for the pickin's with our dollar as worthless as it is, with all the debt we owe to foreign countries, with all of our dependence on oil, with all the damage we're contributing to the environment. Twenty years, Luxembourg will be able to walk right up to the White House door with a water balloon and claim this land.

But fuck it, I still ain't voting for Hillary. Satan himself could be running against her and I'd have to say, "You know, for an evil fuck, he's got a pretty good policy on immigration."

Tuesday Afternoon Punter

Man, getting through a TMQ article is like hacking through some dense foliage, and these pretzels are making me thirsty!

So, I'm taking a break to screw around because likewise to having tired reading arms, I'm also a high school senior in his final weeks before graduation. It's all staring at boobs and slacking off on my assignments from here on out.

Hoo, look at the butt on that!
Yeah ... he must work out.

I'm choking on the phlegm of 3-days without running right now. I'm doing my best to stay hydrated so I can hit the gym as soon as I get home. These last two days with me waking up dehydrated at 4am have not really been hitting the spot. Because inevitably all I have to drink is iced tea, which has caffeine, which in turn keeps me awake until it's time to go to work.

On the plus side, I was able to cut my hair this morning. It's funny, when your hair is so short like mine, you can work in an office full of women and they won't say a thing (either because it's so short they didn't notice, or because it's so short they didn't want to say anything to make me feel inadequate ... up there). Right now I look like I'm on week 3 of chemo, which you'd think would get me some Sympathy/Gonna-Be-Dying-Soon Ass, but all I got today was some extra taco chips from my friend's lunch. On the plus side, this is the cheapest haircut I've ever gotten in my life ... $20 and going on 2+ years of cropped hair.

I like to think my Tuesday Morning/Afternoon articles aren't nearly as daunting as the TMQ's, but they're probably almost as scatterbrained. And with that can I just say that it snowed for the first time here on Sunday and I missed it because I was sleeping, then at a bar watching football, then back at my room finishing off a bottle of wine before passing out at 7pm? Hence the massive throbbing hangover yesterday that left me ineffective at work and highly irritable.

So, I finished reading this book entitled "Lamb" by Christopher Moore. A comedy, of sorts, about Jesus Christ and Biff, his childhood best friend and their adventures in Jewdom during the undocumented years the Bible forgot. Now I know I'm not your regular Christ Man, but that's kind of the point when you read this thing; because anybody who takes Jesus too seriously will find something insidious or offensive about a mostly benign book that doesn't try to push any values on the reader. In a sense, it's kind of the anti-Bible, with lots more fucking.

But, it tries to stay as true to the essence of Jesus just the same. So, you know, Jesus isn't spending his youth snorting cocaine off of shiksas asses or engaging in other indiscretions. Having never read The Bible myself, I don't know more or less than your average heathen when it comes to the big J, but I'd have to say that going off of a fictional novel inspired by a big book of translated parables, I kind of dig Jesus's thing. Jesus the person, not the supposed Son of God.

As Homer Simpson once said, here's this guy with long hair and wild ideas. He claimed the Big Man knocked up his mom (thereby making Joseph a cuckold, I'm assuming) and that he'd bring salvation to the Jews. Apparently he had super healing powers and could invent bread and fish out of thin air and change water into wine. Who WOULDN'T like a guy who could do all that?

What I think, in actuality, is that this Jesus guy was no different than these other wacko Cult Leaders who claim to know the way to salvation. Only people were way more gullible back then and easier to deceive. Then, over time, discrepencies started appearing between what he really did and these so-called miracles. One guy's opium-induced hallucination is another man's Jesus Walked On Water, Man, And It's FREAKIN' Me Out! Like these evangelicals who put their hand on these quivering crippled foreheads, toss them to the ground, and BAM, blindness cured. Same bullshit, only it happened thousands of years ago so there was plenty of time to screw up the actual telling. Plus, there was no Smoking Gun website back then; word-of-mouth's a bitch, just ask any high school teenage girl.

However, I don't doubt that this Jesus Person was probably a pretty cool dude. Hanging out with the lepers, being kind to his fellow man, turning the other cheek, making love and not war. That's all good shit, man!

Anyway, here's what I don't get. People love this guy, right? They believe he's the Son of God and whatnot. Why do they wear crosses? You know, I love my grandma, but I'm not going to string her around my neck on a little metal hospital bed! I mean, Elvis died on a toilet, but they didn't make a postage stamp with his Kingness hugging the porcelan throne. Seems a bit rude, don't you think, to hang crosses on your wall and kiss the damned things before hitting a home run? Such an injurious demise would be akin to black people wearing metal nooses or something; both are martyrish ways to die, but one is appropriate?

The moral to the story is, don't try to understand anyone who's religious. Religions, by design, don't make any sense. That's the foundation of the concept of "Faith" at its core. You have no real tangible evidence to go on, but you just have to believe. So, you can be a rational human being who has yet to be programmed by those around you ... and you're supposed to just BELIEVE that when you die your soul goes somewhere while your body rots in the ground. Religion just keeps the masses satiated with promises of an impressive afterlife to keep them in line now because what people HATE to believe more than anything else is that this is all we've got. And if you fuck up here and waste your fucking life doing shit you hate, then that's it. You're fucked. No reward, no 72 virgins, no nothing. You're an asshole now and forever if you sit around waiting for death.

Because if death is so fucking great, then what the hell are you waiting for?

So, we get religion, which reduces all the anarchy tenfold. Instead of running around naked (in the tropical areas of the world) fornicating with whoever we want, killing whoever we want, and eating as much roasted pork as we want ... we get jobs and homes and wives and suits and toe the company fucking line (or is it TOW the company fucking line) and live like "civilized" human beings because if we don't, God will damn us.

Instead of calling it God damning us, wouldn't the optimist say that Satan is welcoming us?

All I know is, I'd much rather be running around naked screwing Hawaiians all day, but instead I'm in this pinkish shirt and this black tie trying to kill the last hour and a half before I go home to run four miles and go to sleep. Damn that Eve, why'd she have to go and eat that apple?