- The world’s strongest vagina. It can lift 14 kilos? Whatever. I would like to see what it could do with ping pong balls. Seriously. I would really like to see that.
- A father and son that kill and bury hookers together stay together.
- I could not agree more, John Niven. Because you record some awesome shit like Dirty Diana you get a free pass of the kiddie-touchin’? Not on my watch you dead, twisted, clown-looking freak. It is not like you revolutionized industry and tried to get us to hate on some Jews. You fingered little boys in the ass and should be vilified accordingly; especially posthumously.
“Your friend just posted the video: I have a video of you looking like a princess, darling.” Really? Who is going to click on that link, an 11 year-old girl? A flamboyant homosexual man who thinks he is a fashion model? At least entice me to click on a link that will infect my computer, Facebook Virus. Something like “Your friend just posted the video: Watch Me Kill This Hooker” or “Your friend just posted the video: Carlos Mencia Steals Bill Cosby’s Material” or maybe even “Your friend just posted the video: People Getting Hit In The Face In Slow Motion.” You have to want it, Facebook Virus. You have to want it.
The pussy collective has developed into two well-honed killing machines. In the past three weeks I have disposed of three birds which has brought the kitty’s confirmed kill tally to seven and a half (I received credit for two assists on the birds I had to close out with the back end of a shovel). Our cats have now re-focused their murderous rampage on newer victims; bunnies. The past two evenings, the pussy collective has brought a bunny to the back door squirming in each one of their mouths. Have you ever heard a cute and timid bunny rabbit scream in agony? Much like the Madonna song La Isla Bonita, it is something you can never un-hear. The pussy collective has established their dominance in the wilds of our suburban neighborhood via the Way of Chuck Darwin. I will keep disposing of bodies, my sweet kittens, as long as you keep those rabbits from grazing on the freshly-seeded patch of lawn in the corner of the yard.
Yesterday Team Krugman called from the anniversary paradise of Palisade to inform the wife and I of a stray kitten that had been roaming the grounds of their bed and breakfast all weekend. Naturally they assumed we would take the feline as the wife gets weak in the heart at the site of kittens and is one step away from filling our crib with hundreds of cages and strays and stacks of newspapers and aluminum cans that she picked out of the garbage dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant. They claimed the kitty was hours away from going to a “farm where it will be able to roam free for the rest of it’s life” so we agreed to give “it” (it being the operative word as we will not know the sex of new pussy until the vet appointment tomorrow) a new home. Kitty is thus far very chill; purring each time you walk into the room and jumping onto your lap. MJ, our cat who is three times bigger, hissed and ran to hide under the bed upon seeing the newest addition to our household. We are keeping the two of them sequestered for a week so they can get used to one another and eventually go out and kill together.
Last night I walked downstairs to adjust the settings on the sprinkler control box and noticed a mess of feathers strewn about the basement. There I found our kitten, MJ, sitting cocksure over a dead bird with her smooth, serpentine tail slapping against the cold concrete floor. I caught her primal gaze and a bursting sense of pride welled up inside me. “Take that you stupid bird,” I thought. Then I did what any parent would do after they learned their child had just committed murder: lavish praise on said child (or in this case, said kitty) and than dispose of the body.
Aside from the fringe human population that enjoy slitting hooker’s throats and bathing in their blood, most human beings have a deep aversion to killing. This poses a problem when one’s job requires them to kill (e.g. soldiers, police officers, CFOs). Conditioning people to kill and deal with the psychological consequences is known as Killology; a lovely neologism coined by Dave Grossman. He even wrote an uplifting book on the matter that I just added it to my Amazon Wish List.
The 15th Great Easter Bunny Hunt will commence this weekend in New Zealand. Teams of shooters will converge on the country’s rabbit population and an Easter bloodbath will ensue. Nothing says “Christ Has Risen” like animal extermination. I would love to participate in this event because I am fucked in the head. I know Jake is down.
Forty-one years ago today, Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly assassinated JFK. Due to the magic of the internet, kids can now relive the moment by participating in an interactive reconstruction from the perspective of Oswald’s scope. Mafia/Communists/Government be damned!
One of the great mysteries of the universe is how on December 8, 1980, Mark David Chapman shot and killed John Lennon but spared Yoko Ono. I do not think it was too much to ask for an errant hollowed point bullet to cut down that peace-loving bitch in her prime. It may seem cruel to call for the death of another human being, but I assure you it is not as cruel as listening to the politics of an aging hippy for the next twenty plus years.
I am pro-choice and support the death penalty, so I am down with killing criminals and partially developed fetuses. I choose death. Many individuals that are pro-life view existence as precious and believe in a Calvinistic doctrine of predestination. Whatever our beliefs are, in this case and with the benefit of hindsight, I think most Americans would have been handing this would be mother a coat hanger.