I am elated the 2004 election is over with. No longer will I have to bear mudslinging commercials on television, political signs (eyesores) hammered into front lawns, a mailbox stuffed full of propaganda and B-list celebrities telling me to get out and vote in between episodes of Pimp My Ride and Laguna Beach (thanks for the voting advice, Alyssa Milano. Now go fight a scary pretend warlock in a bad mask while wearing a sports bra). With John Kerry losing the election to Bush, all I have to endure now is four years of liberals whining about how Bush and his administration are fucking things up and right wing extremists telling homosexuals they cannot marry, blocking stem cell research and detaining anyone who has the handle “Mohammed.” God bless America.
Joseph Goebbels has nothing on Dick Cheney. Dick reminds me of a crazy old man in the neighborhood I grew up in who threatened to shoot any kids that stepped on his lawn for retrieving an errant ball.
Me: Too bad Dubya didn’t crack his stupid head open when he wrecked on that mountain bike. He just irritates me, is all.
Kaye: They all irritate me.
Kaye: I am voting for Bush.
Me: I am voting for Kerry. Bush’s daughters are hot, though, and they could be showing their twats to the American voter sometime soon. That could sway me.
Kaye: Ha! I could see them doing that.
Me: This is how I vote, Kaye. I weigh the important issues.
Kaye: Yes, Matt. Bush is quirky and I like that about him. I like his dumbness. It keeps me amused. I will read a story about him and shake my head. Crazy George.
Me: Yeah, but Kerry killed some people in the ‘Nam, Kaye.
Me: I like Bush’s wife more than Kerry’s, though. She reminds me of a lonely, alcoholic Southern belle in a doomed marriage. For some reason, that makes me happy. I can just imagine how inappropriate she is when her daughters bring home some college beefcake for Thanksgiving Break. She comes stumbling into the living room blasted out of her mind with a martini in her hand, full of prescription drugs, hair all disheveled and loudly proclaims, “You boys want me to take off my shirt for money?”
Kaye: Ha! Goddamn. We are fucked up.
Me: Yes we are.
The United States Justice Department is waging a war on pornography. The campaign is being led by the killjoy John Ashcroft, a devoutly religious man who does not drink alcohol or caffeine, smoke, gamble, dance, have sex past ten on a school night and lost the 2000 Missouri Senate election to a dead guy. If my Skinemax goes away there will be hell to pay. There is nothing more soothing to a tortured soul than some Black Tie Nights or Hotel Erotica.
The presidential election is fast-approaching and once again the Democrats seem clueless (Howard Dean screaming like a maniac after a third-place finish in Iowa) and Republicans seem content with believing delusions of grandeur (next time just say “We want the fucking oil” and I will have no complaints), I am casting my vote for Ronnie James Dio.
American forces have captured Saddam Hussein. Instead of going out in a blaze of glory with cock and balls in one hand and firing a Glock 9mm with the other, Saddam sat cowering in his dirt bunker, weeping like a schoolgirl with a skinned knee and surrendered to a 19 year-old jar head from Jerkwater, USA. It was a positive event for President Bush who experienced a one second 100 percent approval rating from me. Shortly thereafter, I went back to hating his filthy, whitebread-eating Texan guts. Jake thinks the haggard Saddam looks like Charles Manson, whereas I think he looks like Jerry Garcia’s fucked-up Arab cousin.
The sweet winds of freedom blew into a liberated Baghdad months ago. After years of repression under a brutal regime, the Iraqi people celebrated in the streets, tearing down statues of their fallen dictator. Now, the country’s infrastructure is destroyed, a weakened puppet government friendly to western economic interests is firmly in place and Muslim factions are erupting into civil war across the country. In short, a democratic Iraq is in fucking shambles but at least they have Iraqi porn.
According to this interview in the late 70s, Arnold Schwarzenegger liked to participate in gang bangs with black chicks and his dad was a Nazi officer.
A dissertation on the Communist leanings of the Smurfs. I agree that the Smurfs have some Marxist tendencies but I feel that the sexual promiscuity of Smurfette is more of an issue. I know you are thinking that Smurfette represented all that was noble, pure and innocent with heterosexual Smurfanity, but I urge you to consider the following points:
- Smurfette was the only female Smurf in the entire village. With an approximate 300 to 1 male to female Smurf ratio, are you naive enough to believe that she never threw a male Smurf the blue whiz?
- The male Smurfs did her biding whenever she asked with no questions asked. Hefty Smurf would throw furniture around the house for her. Painter Smurf would paint her mushroom. Handy Smurf would build her bookshelves, tables and stools. And the list goes on. All of these tasks were performed out of the kindness of the male Smurfs hearts? Please. The only way men perform manual labor for any woman is if they are planning on sniffing her panties in the foreseeable future.
- Papa Smurf would routinely send the other Smurfs into the forest for Smurfberries leaving himself and Smurfette alone to their own devices in the deserted village for countless hours. He is called “Papa” for a reason.
- After a few seasons, baby Smurfs magically “appeared” in the village, their presence being explained by the stork theory. Is it unreasonable to believe that a village full of Smurfs at the height of sexual maturity did not hit skins with Smurfette to make some Smurf babies?
It is my conclusion that the Smurfs are not only Pinko scum, but that their female archetype Smurfette was the community bicycle and everyone took her for a ride.
Iraqi citizens and United States soldiers are currently “toppling” an enormous statute of Saddam Hussein in Baghdad. It took all of three weeks for coalition forces to race across Iraq and roll into the capital city. A temporary interim government will be established eventually making way for an unstable Arab democratic regime friendly to Western economic interests. Those who support the war will have an orgy freedom fest and non-war activists will go on harboring the delusion that their objections will be listened to by their government. A coworker of mine compared the liberation of Baghdad to the fall of the Berlin Wall. I reminded her of the financial support, weapons and chemicals the United States gave Saddam Hussein over the past few decades and of the activities a unified Germany accomplished in the past ninety years (read: World War I and World War II). Sigh. Just another day in the life of an armchair anarchist.