Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Medicated

I think I have had enough cold medicine today. I am going to turn down the internet for a little bit.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

A Tale of Two Girls


No, not these two girls. I have no idea who they are.

I am not sure what made these memories surface today. It is possible that, upon reflecting on my perspective on violence towards women, that these two independent interactions with females from over 20 years ago could have somehow shaped my present attitude on the subject could have some merit.

Before I begin the two brief tales, I want to summarize a little background about myself, two points specifically:

  1. As a youngster, and to a lesser extent to this day, I was very socially awkward and naive. In fact, I was naive to the point of ignorance. If it wasn't for my hyperactive friend in junior high, I may have been unaware of certain underpinnings of society well into my 20s.
  2. Growing up, my dad only ever told about two things you NEVER do as a man: Point a gun at another human being, and hit a woman. In fact, he probably emphasized the part about hitting women a lot more than not shooting people. It's ironic, after my mom and dad split, my mom got into an abusive relationship, and before my stepmother met my dad she had been in an abusive relationship. So, despite my naivety, I had seen since a young age many different aspects of females being abused.
Now, unto the tales.

The Girl That Kicked Me In The Nuts

There is not a whole lot to tell here. There was a girl that had been at my school for a couple of years at this point. We were in 5th grade, and maybe had a class or two together. The only social contact we ever had was the day I was standing in front of my locker, I dropped something, bent over to pick it up, and she kicked me in the nuts from behind. Hard.

I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. The weird thing is, I looked at her, and she like stood over me a few seconds before walking off with this bizarre, unmoving mask-like expression on her face.

I never told anyone about it. The subject was never approached in any aspect. I was in school with this girl for seven more years, and even still see her in town from time to time. Even though I have long since put the physical and emotional pain of the incident behind me, I have never been able to reconcile in my mind why she would have done that.

There were times I was angry, and wanted retribution. However, the teachings of my father strictly guided me away from harming women. I had to learn to let it go. I had been victimized by a 12 year old girl, and I had to just live with it.

The Girl and the Two Little Bullies

Again in fifth grade, there was another girl I knew. I knew her better than the first girl, but still did not know her well. Oddly enough, both of these girls shared some similar characteristics: neither of them were particularly attractive, both were very skinny (though girl 1 was much taller than girl 2), they both came from low income families (the term "white trash" could be applicable), and neither were particularly well educated. I don't mean any of that as a put down on either girl, it was just the reality of their situation.

Now, the gigantic difference between the two was that girl 1 was moody and "exclusive/cliquish". Girl 2 was friendly, and even though I was scared to death of girls until the age of about, oh, 20, she was one of the few that I talked to. Even though she may have been "simple", she was gentle and kind.

Unfortunately, arrogant little pricks can look at attributes like this in a female and use it to exploit them. Case in point, one day after school I was sitting alone at the top of the "big slide" in the playground (I would often go up there and sit by myself, sometimes until dark, after school just to be alone). I could see most of the school and playground from that perch. This day, I noticed two younger boys talking to girl 2. As I watched a short while longer, it was obvious they were upsetting her and teasing her (not surprising being that the boys in question were a couple of little shits). She was starting to cry.

Even though I might talk tough online, I am not a brave, principled guy. I routinely let the world go on by, content to be left alone. On this day, though, something happened and I felt compelled to intervene. I slid down the slide and walked over to the girl and the two boys (3rd graders). I asked her if the boys were bothering her and she nodded, weeping. I turned to the boys and plainly stated, "Go away and leave her alone."

Now, I don't know if they were feeling tough because there was two of them, or if my reputation as a pacifist preceded me, but the two little punks basically said, "Who is going to make us?" This is where I step even further out of my established parameters of social interactions with carbon-based life-forms...and lie to them. "You would do well to walk away now, I have been studying martial arts, including karate, and have no desire to to harm either of you." Yes, I was really that well spoken as a youngster, and yes my bluff worked. The boys left.

The girl thanked me and I offered to walk her home (she lived very close to my house). We talked about karate the whole time. I even found a stick and "karate chopped" it in two for her. She smiled and laughed the whole time.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Terminator: Salvation-Summary from a Terminator fanboy


(For no other reason than spite, this is what I see when pictures of Twilight are shown.)


I finally got around to watching Terminator: Salvation last weekend, I wanted to just put a few things down in writing about it, solely from the view of a Terminator fanboy. In other words, if you haven't seen all the Terminator movies, some of what I am talking about may not make sense because I am not going to give detailed background on every point.

First things first, I went into this movie with very low expectations. The director, McG, is a fucking asshat. Baseless assertion FTW! Furthermore, the previous movie (albeit a different creative team) was lackluster, in my opinion, and it's portrayal of John Connor sucked shit through a phallic straw. In short, I was not bracing myself to be "blown away" by this movie.

However, the movie ended up being not as eye-ball stabbing torturous as I feared. Luckily, even with as big of a cunt trumpet that McDouche is, he had a premise that was hard to fuck up, a decent cast (more on that later), and a good budget to throw at it. So, at this point, at least McFagtard didn't fuck this movie into the ground, like he does with his favourite pair of pajama footies.

I mentioned he had a decent cast, probably most notable being Christian Bale, Bryce Dallas Howard, Helena Bonham Carter, Sam Worthington (who did pretty good), Moon Bloodgod, and Anton Yeltsin (the saviour of the movie from an acting standpoint). Out of the main cast, I understood the Bloodgod character the least and found her totally irrelevant. I personally feel McWank gets hard by having pretty ethnic girls around, but whatever.

Easily the best, truest to lore, and happily received gift of the movie was Anton Yeltsin as a young Kyle Reese. If nothing else, Reese's spirit of survival and doing whatever it takes to live was captured, and that was really important to me. So many of the actors in this movie were so intent on being tense about the post-apocalyptic world and fighting the machines, but Yeltsin had a real laid back approach to his character that beat the pants off of everyone else. Nobody was more "comfortable in their shoes" than he was.

Giving credit where credit is due, the imagery and special effects of the movie were very well done, top to bottom. McRammalammadingdong must have a good location scout, because they did a great job of portraying a very desolate world. Furthermore, the technology of the "machines" in the movie was much more impressive than previous installments (and MUCH more believable).

Even though the dialogue didn't manage to suck major ass, the story and plotlines as a whole were pretty shitty. There were all of these little mini story arcs that just weren't prudent, worthwhile or logical. For instance, they carried over the red-headed love interest for John Connor from movie three. Apparently she is a doctor/scientist now and is pregnant (at least they avoided the vulnerable pregnant woman as a plot device) and she gets all weepy for John and shit like that and YAWN.

However, the most egregious fucking bullshit "sub-sub-sub-plot" had to be the pseudo-romance of the Bloodgod character with the Worthington character. BARFOLA! They basically use this as leverage to try to give trust and credibility to the Worthington character so he can help John Connor (Bale). However, it is rendered totally useless by the fact because no relationship whatsoever is developed between Bale and Bloodgod (so why the fuck will Connor care what she thinks about the guy?), and Connor doesn't end up trusting the Worthington character until they have a confrontation, anyway. BONG!!!

Not wanting to get to involved into any more plot spoilers, lets just say there are other...plot devices...that are rather erroneous (ie, random mute girl). Luckily they do not distract overtly from the main story arc.

Terminator fans should be pleased overall with the nods given to past movies, and they were actually worked in without being too cheesy/cornball. Perhaps my favourite was the boombox (it even looked like the boombox Connor had as a child!) blasting out Guns 'n Roses "You Could Be Mine" to lure one of the machine sentries. (Also, unrelated, but surprise "Alice In Chains" FTW!)

One little thing that was missing that would have personally brought a sense of completion into the Reese character for me was a tattoo. Let me explain. There is a rather iconic scene in the first Terminator movie where Reese describes to Sarah Connor about being captured by the machines, and he reveals a Nazi-like barcode tattoo on his forearm that they used to track him. Salvation goes as far as showing Reese being captured and imprisoned by the machines, but they never brand him with the tattoo. Is it a big deal? Probably not. Would I have really enjoyed it's inclusion? Tremendously.

In conclusion, Terminator: Salvation is not the weakest link in the chain of Terminator movies thus far. There were lots of interesting "sci-fi" components instilled that didn't subvert cherished Terminator canon, and at least one of the performers grabbed his character by the balls and put it to the camera. I would recommend this to any Terminator fan or casual sci-fi fan, but it might be a little blah to a general movie audience.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Egregious Hollywood FAIL-John Connor


But there was one man who taught us to fight, to storm the wire of the camps, to smash those metal motherfuckers into junk. He turned it around. He brought us back from the brink. His name is Connor. John Connor.-Kyle Reese, The Terminator (1984)

This blogpost is my attempt to help right an egregious wrong done by Hollywood to a science-fiction hero that they fucking gutted and neutered: John Connor.

In my estimation, there are few sci-fi heroes that had as much potential to be the ultimate fucking bad-ass of sci-fi cinema as John Connor did. The first Terminator movie set the stage perfectly for John, he was faceless and lived only through the tales of a soldier from the future, Kyle Reese: "You trust him. He's got a strength. I'd die for John Connor." Now you have to understand the magnitude of street cred these statements from Reese lend John, we are talking about a guy that is sent stark fucking naked into the past, finds a trenchcoat, a shotgun, and some Nike Vandals, and fucking goes killer-cyborg hunting with home-made pipebombs. When someone that fucking killer says heavy shit like he does about the man who inspired him, you can only imagine he is referring to Hercules, Kahless, Superman, or GOD.

The second Terminator movie was crucial to the development of John Connor. He is a punk kid in junior high and doesn't fucking get why his mom taught him all the shit about weapons, warfare, and kicking ass. However, when the shit gets real, little Johnny finds out he needs to nut up and be a fucking man to fucking take out the machines. Sure, he cries for Arnold at the end, but Arnold is fucking awesome so fuck you.

However, everything that fucking happens after that is complete shit. John Connor turns into a whiny, frustrated nancy-boy that can't get anything done without a girl's help, can't make his own decisions, gets a fagariffic cyborg heart transplant from a friendly robot, and can barely fucking defend himself. It's like they took Pete Wentz and told him he had to get a real job and he trows a temper tantrum.

Hollywood has fucking robbed us! Instead of a leader of men that has a psychotic hatred for machines and the ability to rape them to shreds, we got a spineless little whiny fuck that could probably get beat up by guys in chess club.

Look up at that banner pic! John Connor doesn't have time to fucking whine. John Connor does exactly FOUR THINGS in life:

  1. Piss
  2. Shit
  3. Fuck
  4. Kill robots (or instruct others to)
THAT'S IT. Notice eat and sleep aren't on there? John Connor doesn't sleep, and he doesn't fuck or kill anything he can't eat. PERIOD.

Anyway, this is my salute to you, John Connor That Should Have Been. There are those of us that believe in you and know that if the fucking robot apocalypse should ever come, you will be skullfucking it out of existence one scrapped droid at a time. QAPLAH!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Done Told Her Once Already


If there is anything fucking sexier than a dumbass cunt of a pseudocelebrity with a black eye, it better go up my ass vibrating and burn my leg!

Saturday, October 31, 2009

GRRR...MAN HUG!!!


My unabashed man-crush for Tyler Sash continues. Even though it wasn't a pretty game, Iowa ended up pecker-slapping Indiana on Halloween. Best of all, my man Sash scored himself a TD!

(Sash awesomeness about 60 seconds into the video.)

Also, did you know if you man hug Tyler Sash, it will actually increase your sperm count?

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Movie Review-The Haunted World of El Superbeasto


For being described as "a motion picture that would only be entertaining to sociopaths", I would like to take a moment and speak on behalf of the sociopaths of the world in my review of Rob Zombie's broken maidenhead voyage into the medium of animation, The Haunted World of El Superbeasto. Oddly enough, I can't help but be reminded of a line from the graphic novel series, V For Vendetta, to help introduce this zany rumpus of prostate-tickling hilarity: "...They have forgotten the drama of it all...you see, they abandoned the scripts when the world withered in the glare of the nuclear footlights. I'm going to remind them about melodrama. About the tuppenny rush and the penny dreadful...You see, Evey, all the world is a stage, and everything else....is vaudeville."

Indeed, the main stage of this act is occupied by the heroes El Superbeasto (Tom Papa), his smokin' hot sister Suzi X (Sheri Moon Zombie), and her robot friend Murray (Brian Posehn) as they try to repel the villainous Dr. Satan (Paul Giamatti) and his henchman, the speaking gorilla known as Otto (Tom Kenny-none other than the voice of Sponge Bob! ed.) and their nefarious scheme to abduct Velvet Von Black (voiced by Rosario Dawson and described in her intro song as "able to suck the gay off a painting of a unicorn") and make her Dr. Satan's unholy bride to unleash the power of HELL ON EARTH!

...

Well, fuck me running! I didn't mean to reveal the whole plot in one gigantic run-on sentence, but what that synopsis doesn't reveal is all of the absolutely ridiculous and over the top hilarity and shenanigans that befall El Superbeasto on his way to confronting Dr. Satan. The entire movie (just right at 77 minutes, by the way) is akin to a gigantic episode of School House Rock gone horrifically wrong with tits, Satanism, and dick jokes. The pacing of events is just absurd, with Rob Zombie letting off the gas pedal here and there just enough for you to catch your breath before the next turn to "Who-knows-where?" happens.

One thing that was personally gratifying for me was how the satirical look at misogynism, racism, vile language, sex, and violence wasn't even thinly veiled. The simple honesty of the feature being "what it is" and not chickening out and pulling punches was refreshing. The main attraction of this animated film to me was it's willingness to be just a little different and the "Who gives a fuck?" approach to it's construct.

Now, with all of that being said, no one is going to confuse this with animated masterpieces like Fantasia or use it's name in the same context of Heavy Metal. No one is going to mistake this for high theater or lay out a red carpet for Rob Zombie to accept an Oscar. It's just not what El Superbeasto is about. However, what it does offer is a really neat cast of talents (add Zombie favorites like Danny Trejo, Bill Moseley, and Sid Haig to the aforementioned cast), unique characters, super fun music, and all of the over-enunciated and boiled over imaginative process that Rob Zombie has to offer.

Finally, even though The Haunted World of El Superbeasto personally had me laughing to the point of choking, it's not the film for everybody. If you think you will hate it, you are probably right. If you think you will love it, you are probably right. For those of you on the fence, if you are not emotionally attached to that $4 you have, treat yourself to a tuppenny rush and penny dreadful.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

EPIC WIN


The win is so epic, I am going to just summarize then link to an article:

  1. Iowa remains undefeated at 8-0.
  2. They are the first 8-0 team in school history.
  3. We won on fourth down with 2 seconds left in the game with a TD pass. (Stanzi to McNutt)
  4. That picture? THE Catch.
What a time to be alive! GO HAWKS!

(Here is that article I promised to link.)

Bonus! KCRG put up a vid!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Tim Dwight-More Than A Football Hero


For me, memories of Tim Dwight start long before Super Bowl touchdowns, Iowa Hawkeye Football in Kinnick Stadium, or the red and white of Iowa City High. They go back to a playground at Mark Twain Elementary school and a bunch of kids playing kickball. There was a fence out past the swings, and the really good kickballplayers could kick it out by them swings, a home run for sure, but no one ever kicked it OVER the fence. Well, no one until Tim Dwight.

Growing up, Tim Dwight was a year ahead of me in school, and was always the ultimate "cool guy". He was the fastest, the strongest, and best at every sport. He was our star player on our football team and led us to a state football championship his senior year. He went on to play as an Iowa Hawkeye as one of the most popular ever "Homegrown Hawks". He put up blazing kick return touchdowns and caught for more yards than any Hawkeye ever had. When college was done, he went on to have a great decade-long pro-career, the bulk of it with the Atlanta Falcons and San Diego Chargers.

Now, for a normal guy in Iowa City that is a lot of good reasons to have Tim Dwight as a football hero. However, the reason he's one of my heroes is because of something a little more. It's not because he's a big star, a big football hero, it's because of the way he treats other people, especially children and children with disabilities. In fact, he holds an annual football camp to help fund his Tim Dwight Foundation Scholarship. Even a cursory search for images of Tim Dwight turns up many pictures of him interacting with children, and most of all BEING POSITIVE about it.

Even on a personal note for myself, Tim is just a nice guy. I used to be too shy to approach him in high school (I wasn't one of the "cool guys"), but once I finally talked to him, I found out he wasn't a "cool guy", he was just a guy like me or someone else. Polite, courteous, positive, well-spoken, enthusiastic, intelligent, giving...the kind of virtues you are glad are exemplified in a young man in a prominent role that comes from a small city in Iowa. Thank you for representing us so well, Touchdown Timmy!

Friday, October 16, 2009

I am seething.


I read this article this morning, and now all I can see is red. (Super brief summary, old white justice of the peace refuses to marry interracial couples.) You know what? If you want to be a racist asshole, just come right on out and say it. Don't pretend to be anything else. The thing that fucking kills me is the first words out of this dicksponge's mouth:

"I'm not a racist. I just don't believe in mixing the races that way,"

Merriam Webster defines:

Main Entry: hyp·o·crite
Pronunciation: \ˈhi-pə-ˌkrit\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English ypocrite, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin hypocrita, from Greek hypokritēs actor, hypocrite, from hypokrinesthai
Date: 13th century

1 : a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion
2 : a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings

**************

Asshole, racist, hypocrite...but he is doing it all because he cares for the children!

"There is a problem with both groups accepting a child from such a marriage," Bardwell said. "I think those children suffer and I won't help put them through it."

OK, if your eyes don't look like Donald Duck's up there at this point, there is something seriously fucking wrong with you. Yes, fuckhead's fucked up reason for being a asshole racist hypocrite is that he doesn't want the poor little mixed kids to suffer.

He came to the conclusion that most of black society does not readily accept offspring of such relationships, and neither does white society, he said.

WELL SHIT THE BED! This oughta fucking help! Let me summarize your position here, Fartwell, "You disgusting mixed children are such an unholy abomination I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you aren't even born into this world...because I care about you." Does that about sum it up you fucking pig? Boy howdy, nothing like sending a positive, reaffirming message of "You should have never been born." to all the little mixed kids of the world, huh fuckwit???

Still, with all of the blatant fucking ignorance and intolerance this guy spews in the few short sentences he had available, nothing kills me more than this:

"I have piles and piles of black friends. They come to my home, I marry them, they use my bathroom."

I feel I simply must apologize here, Fartwell. I didn't realize you had "black friends", that makes everything better and absolves you of being a racist fuck...honestly! Use your bathroom? It must have fucking killed you that you didn't have a "Colored Bathroom" installed!

You fucking asshole. I have friends that happen to be black, too! But I don't call them my "black friends", they are just my FRIENDS. You can pretend all you want in your mind that you aren't a racist, but you are and you might as well just fucking admit it. If you were really interested in helping mixed children, you might just start treating them like children need to be treated, with love, care, and support.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Tyler Sash is actually a comic book hero


Tyler Sash solidified himself as a Hawkeye legend when he led the Hawkeyes into Ames in 2009 and curb-stomped the living fuck out of the Cyclones. His three interception and one forced fumble effort only tells part of the story that is the unparalleled manliness and assbeat that is Tyler Sash. So, to help round out the urban legend of Tyler Sash, I offer you this:

Top Ten Absolutely 100% True Facts* You Don't Know About Tyler Sash

  1. Tyler Sash is actually a cyborg sent from the future by Klingons to be awesome.
  2. Tyler Sash saved a kitty from a tree by willing the tree to die.
  3. Tyler Sash hides under the boogieman's bed.
  4. When Tyler Sash finds Brittney, he is going to hang her from the Nile Kinnick statue with her own intestines.**
  5. Tyler Sash stays in prison during his free time so he can beat up pedophiles between games and not "mellow" his "harsh".
  6. Tyler Sash drinks Jobu's rum, and there isn't a fucking thing Jobu can do about it.
  7. If Tyler Sash finds out one of his teammates didn't eat their Wheaties, he eats their spleen.
  8. Tyler Sash broke the rock. With his dick.
  9. When Tyler Sash ass-pats you in the shower, it actually makes you more of a man. If he towel whips you, it's because he cares.
  10. Science is sure that there is no "kryptonite" for Tyler Sash.

*probably not true
**if Tyler is actually the player in question, I apologize. That's not cool.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Awesome Dream-Jedi Master Dalton


Dor sho gha! I had one of the most action-packed, pseudo-sci-fi, kung-fu-fightin' dreams last night! Check it out:

Dalton was straight up the first Jedi ever. He perceived that he must search out for a student, and began to wander. Now, Dalton is still Dalton and his wandering landed him a job as a bouncer for some titty-bar somewhere. Oddly enough, Dalton found his student when a young guy who was broke, down on his luck, and homeless came looking for a job as a bouncer. (He's kind of nameless in the dream, but he was a naive, wimpy, nerdy guy...kinda like Michael Cera. Also, after this point in the dream my perception shifts only between 1st person on Wimpy and 3rd person of Dalton.) Dalton takes this guy under his wing and starts training him to be a badass.

Well, one Saturday night when the club is hoppin', this gigantic mean-lookin' hillbilly (that oddly resembled Robert Baker from Chinese Connection) comes in, and Dalton knows this guy is trouble before he even finishes lookin' him up and down. No sooner than he gets through the door, Hillbilly starts cussin', demanding whiskey, and feeling up the girls. Dalton looks over to Wimpy (who is trying to talk to the waitress he is sweet on) and gives a whistle. Wimpy snaps to and runs over to Dalton's side.

Dalton and Wimpy walk over to the Hillbilly and Dalton gives him the polite routine about asking him to please leave. The request goes over like a lead balloon, Hillbilly pulls a hunting knife and grabs Wimpy, holding the knife to his throat. Hillbilly says some shit about, "How bad you gonna be Dalton, when I do yer boy in, right here?"

In the long list of Klingon proverbs, one of the lesser-known but fundamentally truthful is "Don't fuck with Dalton." Unfortunately for Hillbilly, he was not well-versed in Klingon proverbs and when he goes to stab Wimpy the knife flies out of his hand! Dalton's eyes are glowing bright white and he is surrounded by a faint glowing aura (think, "The Glow" from The Last Dragon) as the knife leaps into his hand. No sooner than Dalton receives the knife then he returns it to Hillbilly in his shoulder. Hillbilly screams in pain, lets go of Wimpy, and the real fight is ON.

Now, this next part is why I love my fucking dreams. Dalton yells at the girls to get Wimpy away and keep him safe (I told you the kid was a pussy), and he and Hillbilly start wrecking the place with epic ass kicking! Remember how I told you my perception of the dream goes from 3rd to 1st person on Wimpy? Well, as all hell is breaking loose around me with Dalton doing all kinds of Ninja Jedi shit, the girls are corralling me back to their dressing room. I keep telling them I need to go help Dalton, so they do the one thing they KNOW will distract a nerdy loser like me. Oh, that is fucking right!!! I start getting done by three strippers while two of them are holding me down in a chair!!! (Kahless, I am not worthy.)

The story does not end there, though! No sooner is Wimpy finished becoming a man, but Dalton has kicked Hillbilly's ass and tossed what's left out on the street. Dalton walks over to Wimpy at the bar just covered in blood (some of it his, most of it Hillbilly's) and they celebrate both of their accomplishments by eating hot fudge sundaes. BOO YA!

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

You Have Been Put On Notice


In 1977, Roman Polanski was arrested in Los Angeles and pleaded guilty to "unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor", a 13-year-old girl (he was 44 years old at the time). Released after a 42-day psychiatric evaluation, Polanski fled to France, has had a U.S. arrest warrant outstanding since 1978, and an international arrest warrant since 2005. Polanski for many years avoided visits to countries that were likely to extradite him, such as the United Kingdom, and traveled mostly between France, where he resides, and Poland. As a French citizen, he was protected in France by the country's limited extradition with the U.S. On September 26, 2009, he was arrested, at the request of U.S. authorities, by Swiss police, on arrival at Zürich Airport while trying to enter Switzerland to pick up a lifetime achievement "Golden Icon Award" from the Zurich Film Festival.

Doesn't sound so bad, right? A chicken-shit, law-dodging child-raper finally getting what he deserves! Well, here comes the part that makes me sick:

There is a petition that has been signed by prominent "big name" movie directors and performers, basically asking to free Polanski cuz he's such a swell guy and it's all water under the bridge at this point anyway. (Shitty English translation here.)

Furthermore, the minimalization of the crime Polanski committed is astonishing. When such off-hand remarks by prominent celebrities sound like, "I know it wasn’t rape-rape", that means the apologetics for Polanski are getting pretty fucking weak.

Fuck all of you. You are all put on notice officially as of this moment. If anyone, I don't care who, defends Polanski or spews the bullshit apologetics for him in MY presence, your ass is grass. Flat out.

“He who does not punish evil commands it to be done.” - Leonardo da Vinci

10/2/2009:
Awesome update! Both Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger and leading sex-abuse victim advocate Joelle Casteix have publicly criticized the "Polanski supporters" and voiced their opinion that Polanski should face the law just like anyone else. Boo ya, Pedanski, try escaping from Conan the Barbarian!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Fucking Douchebag


So, some squirrely lookin' guido-beach-wannabe douchebag comes into my office and starts asking around for the CEO of our company like he knows him (he doesn't). He got his needledick all bent out of shape when I kept brushing him off and had to whip out his PDA to make himself look important.

I bet this guy sticks things up his ass and jerks off in front of a mirror. Fucking douchebag.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Donk wins...AGAIN


So, DNASteal was nice enough to introduce us to Sxv’Leithan Essex at Filmdrunk. The Mighty Feklahr challeneged the Drunkards to come up with the pronunciation of "Sxv’Leithan". The winner is (like he never wins anything):

Donkey Hodey says:

Sfifteen lee-tan

There you have it! Suck it, Sfifteen lee-tan!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

INCREDIBLEy Not Disappointing!


So, I was home sick yesterday and my mom rented me that Incredible Hulk movie with Ed Norton. Having exceedingly low expectations after the incredible shitfest the last Hulk movie was, I was actually surprised that this one didn't blow dirty Samoan Football Player ass.

I am not going to review the movie per se, but I am going to point out a small point that I found overlooked in many reviews (1) of the Incredible Hulk I read. *SPOILERS FOR A MOVIE A YEAR OLD AHEAD AND SPECULATION FOR A POSSIBLE SEQUEL TO A YEAR OLD MOVIE AHEAD!*

So, there is the supporting character of Dr. Samuel Sterns who helps turn Tim Roth into the villainous "Abomination". However, during the transformation process, we see Dr. Sterns get hit with some of Abomination's blood and his head starts..."poofing out".

Well, anyone that considers themselves even remotely well-versed in Marvel comic lore realizes that they are laying a trail of breadcrumbs for Dr. Sterns to be the possible villain in a possible sequel, a harrowing and fiendish lout named...LEADER! Oh, fuck, not that fucking loser! Leader sucks shit!

This is where I assert a more promising character for lead villain in a possible Hulk sequel: Bi-Beast! This guy is so gnarly he can suck you off and toss your salad at the same time, and doesn't play favourites when comes to boys and girls! Besides, if you need any more evidence that this guy NEEDS to be in a movie, read the opening segment from his bio:

"Bi-Beast was the android caretaker of a floating island formerly inhabited by a race of Bird People."

Now that is fuckin' HAWT!



Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Bacon Covered Clown


Following is a list of events/items from my vacation to the Iowa State Fair that I found to be amusing/pleasurable/horrifying and generally somewhat interesting:

  • There was a clown miked up in a dunk tank that would taunt you as you tried to hit the target with the softball. When I missed the first time he says, "I bet if that was a bacon cheeseburger you wouldn'ta missed it! NYA HA HA HAA!" (BTK, if that clown had a family, his remains are stuffed under the Tilt-A-Whirl.)
  • There was an "evolution critics" display in the Varied Industries building. They had great fundie literature straight from the Creation Museum in Kentucky. Yeah.
  • The voice of the Hawkeyes, Bob Brooks was there and signed my Hawkeye hat! QAPLAH!
  • Furthermore, the Hawkeyes had cheerleaders handing out free posters, a trophy case with out latest Bowl trophy, AND FLOYD OF ROSEDALE! ZOMG! (Oddly enough, there was a small, quiet table with a few posters laying on it at the Iowa State booth...)
  • HONEY. LEMONADE. FTW. Waaaaaaaaaaaaay better than Lemonade Tacos.
  • Really great art exhibit by people with disabilities. Those people are a trillion times more creative and inspired than the average scarf wearing art fag.
  • Now, for the single most redneck thing I saw: There was a..."display" where a monster truck was positioned over a smashed car, and a HUGE sign from the truck window read, "CHOCOLATE COVERED BACON ON A STICK 2 FOR $5!" Like...seriously.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I get into religious arguments


A time-killer I recently picked up is "debating" fundamental religious types, the really ignorant, venom-spitting ones. It all stemmed from my incredulity at a measure being taken in a school board in Georgia a few years back to undermine the teaching of Evolution in public schools. I simply couldn't believe (initially) that something like that would take place in this day and age.

WRONG!

Not only does the idiotic voice of "Special Creation" still exist, some of the mouthbreathers have figured out how to use the interwebs and are using it as a tool to spread their ignorant message (you know, "Evilooshun is wrong because god made us perfect and scientists are trying to indoctrinate our children into atheism", and shit like that).

Anyway, here is a dime-a-dozen example of trying to communicate with these morons:

Fundy with a Bible-"The bible makes many statements... one being the fact, that God not only created everything, but he controls it... by the bible's estimate this is true... What is it so hard to believe he allowed the sun to stand still, wouldn't it be much harder to create it?... what evidence do you have that he didn't? You have none... therefore, your decision that God does not exist, is based on faith, as well!"

Me being tongue-in-cheek with reply-"What is it so hard to believe Kahless allowed the sun to stand still, wouldn't it be much harder to create it?... what evidence do you have that Kahless didn't? You have none... therefore, your decision that Kahless does not exist, is based on faith, as well!"

Fundy with a Bible reponds-"I agree! You have finally said something thatmakes sense..."

********************************

In summary, fundies only understand you when you speak sarcastically about imaginary characters. I guess in some kind of cosmic joke kind of way this could be funny, but in reality these people are just cow-fucking morons.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The Manliest Living Performers


This is a simple exercise in idol worship from a Klingon impersonating accountant from Iowa.

THE MANLIEST LIVING PERFORMERS

  1. Clint Eastwood-If you don't understand why "Clintoris" is #1, you are reading the wrong blog and need to go kill yourself. If it wasn't for guys like Mr. Eastwood, America would be full of cardigan-sweater-wearing teetoalers that clean house and read Twilight novels.
  2. The Undertaker-This is a simple fucking formula. Blood/violence/pyrotechnics? Check. Muscles/tattoos? Check. Undead themes/awesome music? Check. STEEL CAGE MATCHES? Check. Chewing tobacco/motorcycles/biker babes? Check. Throw in having a manager that is deep south ex-Air Force, and getting to beat up Randy Orton whenever you want, and you have a the kind of man that would kick Thor's ass.
  3. Arnold Schwarzenegger-Even though he has been delegated to gubernatorial duties, Ahnold could ride the coattails of his performance in the Conan movies alone into one of these top spots.
  4. Robert Downey Jr.- In our first real departure from the ultra macho and performance enhancing, we have a man that has churned out astonishing performances that were fortunately caught on tape between outlandish binges of sex, drugs, rock n roll, and "Who fucking knows?" To summarize, RDJ is so manly that his johnson is the only thing that Paris Hilton's cooch (or Perez Hilton's ass) fears. I am certain the only thing that could kill RDJ is a nuke or the Crimson Dynamo.
  5. Sir Ian McKellen-That's right, fuckwits. He's been Macbeth, he's been Gandalf, and he will ruin your shit. Don't believe me? Watch this clip and tell me you didn't feel emasculated:




Oh yeah, you just got served.

Honourable mention-Patrick Swayze-When life serves you an ex-con that "used to fuck guys like you in prison", do what ol' Dalton does. Tear his fucking throat out.

*update-Well, technically ol' Dalton ain't with us on this fine planet any more, BUT as long as one copy of Roadhouse exists on VHS or DVD...Dalton...will...never...die.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Hammer Doomforger


You should have known damn well doing a search for that name would lead you here.

Hammer Doomforger is my Dwarven fighter in various D&D/LOTRO games.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Fuckin' American Nazis. I Hate American Nazis!


Well, as we all know I am pretty cavalier with the ol' insensitive ethnic stereotyping around here, but when does racism cease being funny and amusing and start being harmful?

How about shitting everything one of the greatest generations our country has ever had (both of my grandfathers fought the Nazis in WWII) and becoming a gun-toting Aryan asshat more concerned with keeping the white race pure than defending the nation you swore an oath to protect (making you a liar and a traitor!)?

Now, I *COULD* go on with my condemnation of these treasonous fucks, but let's skip that and get down to what the ol' Uncle Fekky does best: make fun of assholes!

Here's some fine examples of what these spineless, racist HaDiBahs have to say for themselves!

Asshat 1: "We must secure the exsistance of our people and a future for white children!"

Asshat 2: "I like to have fun, like to be intellectual when i need to be and a goofball when i can as well." ed.-good luck counting the grammar mistakes there! Not to mention the searing irony...

Asshat 3 (a double header of retardation!): "Its better to live one day as a lion, Than a hundred years as a sleep"

"...if we stay divided we will fade out of existences."

Asshat 4: "Family values are issential in preserving our race."

That's swell, guys. Thanks for reinforcing the idea in my head of hooking up a shotgun to my penis with my ejaculatory duct as the trigger followed by an operation to remove a couple ribs so I can "blow myself away".

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Worthless Dick Scum

Image Hosting


I admit I get some bizarre, guilty pleasure out of reading celebrity gossip. Why? I don't know. If I was forced to guess, I would say it is because I hate so many people, especially wealthy people that think they are pretty and important.

However, in my unfortunate grasping to get my fix, I have learned of "pseudo-celebrity" douchebag asswipes that infect our planet like little worthless fuckers, and I would have been better off never know of them and possibly being lobotomized to forget them.

So, even though I really have no one to blame but myself, I am going to be a hypocrite and blame WWTDD.com (well, and to a lesser extent, Filmdrunk) for exposing me to the following worthless leeches on humanity, whom I would never have known otherwise because I only watch football, MMA, and pro-wrestling on tv and virtually never go to movies:

  • Paris Hilton
  • Perez Hilton
  • Lindsay Lohan
  • Miley Cyrus
  • Lady Gaga
  • Rihanna
  • Chris Brown
  • Zac Efron
  • Jonas Brothers
  • Pete Wentz
  • Ashley/Jessica Simpson
  • That tubby little pregnant sister of Briney Spears'
  • Victoria Beckham
  • Lily Allen
  • Michael Bay (fuck his stupid ass)
  • Uwe Boll
  • Twilight and all the bullshit associated with it
  • Robert Pattinson
  • Kristen Stewart
  • Diablo Cody
  • Brooke Hogan
  • Nick Hogan
  • That Jon/Kate/8 ABOMINATION
  • Sienna Miller (what a cunt)
  • all of them dingleberry cuntfags from those shitty MMA movies (you are 130 lbs soaking wet, dickslap...OOOOO! SO INTIMIDATING! OH WHA AH AH AH! I TAKE SHITS BIGGER THAN YOU!)
  • GLARING OMISSION #1-Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt (talk about a couple of fucking worthless shits)
  • Carrie Prejean
  • Justin Bieber
I will add to this as I see fit. I hope all of the fucking dirtbag, bottom-feeding losers on this list get the same butthole disease that killed Michael Jackson! Baseless assertion FTW!

Friday, June 5, 2009

Komments of the Week!


It's that time of the month...He means week! Time to recognize this week's excellence in commenting! Dor sho gha! This week's winner receives a free self-addressed, stamped envelope in which to send The Mighty Feklahr nude pictures of themselves. Let's see who won!

In the Best Dream Evar? thread:

Stephanie said...

Oh, Fekky. I am both shaken and stirred.

Rowr! Qaplah! YOU WIN!

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Best Dream Evar?


If ever there was a dream that stroked the ego, it would have to be a dream about being James Bond. Not girly neo-emo James Bond, we are talking cigarette smoking, woman smacking, martini drinking, panty-dropping Bond. The fucking Alpha Male of Alpha Males.

The fucking dream could not have started any better, I cruised into this port town (some coastal European place) on my battleship-like yacht and strolled right on in to the swankiest hotel and had a drink and my hand and surrounded by naked women in three seconds flat. You see, this hotel offered a nightly "dance production" (think big stage Vegas Showgirl shit) to showcase the available women forthe evening. After the the dance number, you could mingle with them to make you selection for the night. Oh, and of course the girls are all topless and gorgeous. (Kahless, I love my fucking dreams sometimes.)

This particular dance routine had a swimming theme for it, so afterwards the girls dried off and met you in the lounge. Some fuckwad was there in scuba gear (an apparent social statement about the dance routine). A drunk Russian pulls me aside and says to me, "Look at him, he ees like homosexual cosmonaut! HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!! HA HA HA HA!!!"

Ivan was totally ruining my pussy-magnet mojo, so it was time to shut down the vodka plant. I have no idea what I said next (because it was all in Russian), but I can only imagine it was the Russian equivalent of "Let a hungry Carpathian long-haired she-wolf blow your dick, fuck!", because Ivan was fucking RUINED.

After I shot down the walking vodka bottle, I turned on the pussy radar Q gave me and went on the prowl. I was like the rooster in the hen house. I knew all I had to do was find the one I liked and she would be mine. Oddly enough, the girl I found wasn't one of the topless dancers, it was a girl working on a laptop behind a desk (an administrator for whoring?). She was an absolutely gorgeous red-head with green-eyes, an Irish-man's delight, and she was a shorty, too, 4'10" tops. I didn't even fuck around, I walked over, shut her laptop, and motioned to the VIP section of the restaurant saying simply, "You can join me for dinner over there."

She tried to act all incredulous, but it was too long before I had her on my yacht rubbing her cooter in my face. (Kahless, I love my dreams sometimes!) I had this gigantic round bed with silk sheets on my yacht, it was a ballers paradise. After the dust had settled and we were talking about life and shit like that, I heard motors of boats humming!

I jumped up wearing nothing but my boxer briefs with a kevlar crotch and opened a cabinet filled with automatic weapons and shotguns and grabbed an AK-47 (why fuck around?). I looked out a porthole to see that I was being boarded by pirates from a few small boats. These pirates were fucking hilarious, all of them had these outlandish costumes like vikings or super heroes. This is the part of the dream where I go from "Karl Hungus 007" to "N64 Goldeneye" in the flash of a 9mm.

The gun fight was ludicrous, I had 50 guys shooting at me, but the yacht had them locked out of my "secure zone", so I could run around to portholes and blow their asses away. At one point, they had me pinned down pretty good in the galley. At one point I was literally using the refrigerator for cover. Bullets are shrieking in and blasts the refrigerator door open, and literally shoot a beer into my hand and pops the top!!! (Kahless, I love my dreams sometimes, oh, and eat my ass Indiana Jones!)

When I mow their numbers down to about 20 or so, they decide to flee. However, this gigantic helicopter flies in (presumably one of my government allies), shines this big spotlight on the pirates as they are standing without cover on the deck of my yacht. Then, whoever is in the fucking helicopter just mows their asses down with machinegun fire (glad they didn't sink my boat!), it was just carnage.

After a salute to the captain of the whirly bird, I go back to my den of sin and my lusty Irish lass (who, of course, wants to toss my salad for being so awesome like John Matrix from "Commando"), and all's well that ends well.

Rader Love


(see if you can guess where I took Radar Love lyrics out and put Dennis Rader poetry in!)

I've been drivin' all night, my hand's wet on the wheel
I'll bring sexual death unto you for me.
In that small world of longing, rapture, fear

Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear


When she's lonely and the longing gets too much

I didn't kill your family but I admire the work.

We don't need no phone-cord at all

We've got a thing that's called Rader love

We've got a wave in the air, Rader love

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Last Person On Earth


Have you ever wondered what it might be like to be the last person on Earth? What the hell would you do as the last known sentient being on the planet?

These types of thoughts have occurred to me before, and I often tried to imagine I would try to something noble and magnanimous, however, when I thought about what I would probably really want to do, it would be summed up like the following:

First thing I do is find my ass a Dodge Viper and drive that bitch like a bat out of hell. No AAA? No towing service? No EMTs? NO PROBLEM!

Once I got my situation with my wheels covered, I start my nationwide cruise that has exactly THREE stops in every town I visit.

  1. Grocery store. For canned food and other life neccessities (booze).
  2. Police stations. Why you ask? Well, stupid, where else am I supposed to find drugs and guns stockpiled all nice and easy? Furthermore, if you gotta ask what I need the guns for being the only person alive, there's a good reason you are dead in this timeline.
  3. Sex shops. To complete my tour of the United States, I am going to defile every Livedoll/Realdoll I can find. However, I am going to find the "perfect" one and save her/him for a special occasion.
Now at some point, I figure I will unintentionally sober up and get bored of the tour, so I will head for the grand finale. It kicks off with a drive to Washington DC. I will take my "perfect" little Livedoll and screw it on the desk in the oval office.

After my farewell fuck, I fulfill my last dream. I teach myself to fly a fighter jet!!! OH WHA AH AH AH!!!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHFFFFUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!

KERBOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I like to imagine I at least fire off a few of the missiles before I crash it.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Tessto



So, I was thinking to myself how awesome the tessto was, and decided to do a web search about it only to find THERE IS EXACTLY JACK AND SHIT ABOUT TESSTOS ON THE INTERNET!!!

This was a travesty of awesomeness that needed correcting, so here we have it:

RESPECT THE TESSTO!

For avid fans of Dungeons & Dragons, some may recognize the tessto as a weapon of choice for minotaurs. And why not? They kick ass! A cookie-cutter definition looks like:

The tessto is a 6'-long studded club with a loop of rope at its hilt. Using this weapon offensively requires great Strength. A cunning master can use the tessto defensively by spinning it around its center like a baton, and using its loop to snag feet, hands, and heads.

In layman's terms, the tessto is like a gigantic fat branch with these big, barbed and spikey studs all over it. It can not only pummel an enemy, but shred him as well...LOOK!


Can you even imagine anything more assbeat than that?! The fucking frog guy got beat upside that fucking tree so hard it blew his fucking brains out AND the tessto is wrenching out his fucking intestines!!! BAM!!!

So there it is, the coolest weapon in the universe: The tessto.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Die cuntscab!


OK, so my company has a toll free number that we use ONLY for when we list job openings in the paper (which we do maybe twice a year). It gets used so little, it is almost shocking when a call comes in on that line.

Furthermore, we have lots of numbers for lots of people where I work. Being that I take over 90% of the incoming calls to the company, I need to know these numbers (and I do). In fact, the amount of company numbers I have committed to memory is astonishing. However, I cannot recite the toll free number off the top of my head. We hardly ever use it.

So, I get this call today from this bitch who is obviously in a HUGE fucking hurry. She tells me she needs to be transferred to extension "XYZ" (for the sake of brevity/privacy). Well, we don't have an extension "XYZ", so I ask her who she is trying to contact. She states, "Oh, well I most likely have the wrong number, isn't this '877-ABC-DEFG'?"

At this point, I am thinking, "Well that almost sounds like our toll free number, maybe a digit off." So I start saying to her, "Just a sec...", as I check our phone listings and she cuts in on me, "OH WOW, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR OWN PHONE NUMBER??? WOW! SCARY! I AM JUST GOING TO HANG UP AND TRY CALLING THIS NUMBER AGAIN!" *CLICK*

Yeah, so some cunt that admittedly thought she called the wrong number called me ignorant, insulted my intelligence, and hung up on me. Look for her on the back of a milk carton next week.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

New Dream-2 girls 1...Klingon?


OK, this dream makes for a pretty uninteresting story, and I am only really telling it because I got to bang two hot chicks in it. Let's go!

So, I had become reacquainted with a girl I knew from high school (let's call her "Blondie"). She was a pretty girl 12 years ago, and in my dream she had matured very nicely. We were at her apartment talking when her roommate (oddly enough one of the hottest strippers {let's call her "Garter"} I had seen when in Key West) came home flustered and crying.

Garter explained to that she had just caught her boyfriend cheating on her and broke up with him, and was really mad at him, furious. Blondie then says to her, "You should find the first guy with a big dick and fuck his brains out to spite that asshole!", then she motions over to me. (Oh, yeah, we are on a collision course with a porno plot!)

The funny thing was that, in the dream, I was actually thinking "Oh I shouldn't, I'm married, she's upset and will regret it..." and so on, but then I start necking with with Garter and Blondie starts undressing with the cute little quip, "You guys don't mind, right?", I suddenly found myself not really giving a shit.

I will spare you the "Penthouse Forum" part of this dream, save to tell you that the dream for a while was fucking explicit and raunchy. (My fave is when I was doing Garter from behind, Blondie gets a bottle of lube and tells me to pull out. She squirts lube all over my schlong and Garter's ass and guides me in. Fucking SWEET! Ooops, a little Penthouse Forum after all!)

There was also a subplot afterward of the girls selling drugs and me having to pretend I was so high I was comatose, but fuck it. I got to be the lightning rod for a threesome spite fuck with two hot girls!

Well, in my dreams. :/

Friday, April 24, 2009

This PG rated politically correct world can bite it


When did we become so spineless as a species that we have to constantly protect the sensibilities of every possible person from every possible point of fucking view? The watered-down, PG rated, politically correct media is starting to stunt the intellectual growth of this nation (and beyond, I suspect).

My philosophy is, ANYTHING can be brought to the discussion table, regardless of how "awkward" it may seem to talk about. The longer we shy away from saying just what the fuck it is on our minds and saying it plainly, the more obfuscated social dialect and discussion will become, and less relevant!

There are so many cases, I just don't even know where to begin. Of course people that use their religious beliefs (or lack thereof) to cry "Foul!" infuriate me:

  • Some dipshit atheist decides to complain about a Nativity scene displayed at a Public Library during Christmas. I am sure he went through and objected to other religious materials the library has in non-holiday times as well. Sanctimonious fuck. Listen, fuckweed, they put up a nativity display, they didn't hold you down and try to exorcise your atheistic demon and convert you. MOVE ALONG. If you are an atheist, what the fuck do you care about a motherfucking Nativity scene?
  • The fucking Muslims go apeshit when a Danish newspaper publishes cartoons of Muhammed. FUCK THEM AND THEIR HIGH HOLY FUCKING HORSE THEY RODE IN ON. So what if there are a billion of you assholes on the planet, that just means there are about 6 billion that aren't. I guess if your God was so fucking mighty, He would have stopped the cartoons from being published, right? RIGHT?
  • Of course the dumbass Pope has to condemn a sculpture depicting a crucified frog. Let that sink in, people. We seriously have one of the highest religious "authorities" on the planet condemning a piece of art as blasphemous. Fine. For every piece of art the Vatican labels as blasphemous, I am going to make a drawing that is obscenely blasphemous. I feel inspired! Holy shit! No burning bushes or talking snakes stopped me from doing it!!!
Ugh, and message boards in general have all of these fucking rules about what they consider to be civil behaviour and language. Well, guess what? The Ku Klux Klan can use civil language, that doesn't make their dogshit message worth listening to! Civility goes out the fucking door the second STUPID arrives!!! Why the fuck am *I* under the obligation to be tolerant of an asshat that comes a-strollin' on in, throws blanket ignorant statements all over the the board, and then says, "I am entitled to my opinion."???

People fucking love feeling entitled. However, nobody wants the responsibility that is coupled with forming an opinion. It could be my opinion that we fucking kill by toilet drowning all men named "Vince", but it would be an opinion hinging on bizarre fucking cruel fantasy! By what right do I assert that? "Well it sounded good to me at the time!" FUCK TOO! Spouting off your opinion is worthless, backing it up with rational thought is PARAMOUNT. Far too few people want to back up their opinion with rational thought. More than likely, they have have an emotional response to something ("Eew, gays are icky!") then form all opinions for that "something" based on their emotional response. ("Since gays are icky, they should all be burned in an oven to death.") THAT'S NOT HOW LOGIC WORKS.

Here's a fucking swerve in the rant for you, why the fuck can't I use the word "nigger". It's the most dime-a-dozen fucking word in hip-hop vernacular, but the second fucking a white guy like me says it, IT'S RACIST. Shit, too! It's just entitlement in a different form. My "white guilt" has a limit and does not extend to where I self-censor my expression of thought. Why is it so off limits? Why can't we even approach the subject? That "empowerment" you must be feeling by taking a word that was used to deride you and make it a commonplace colloquialism in your microcosmic linguistics must be VERY intoxicating! Oh, sorry, it is just another self-imposed divide on ethnic relations. "We can use Word A and you may not." is NOT unifying.

What this all is boiling down to is that "delicately phrased" bullshit rhetoric is still bullshit rhetoric, and "disturbing, poorly worded" logic is still logic. When we put up this pretense of civil discourse, more attention gets paid to the verbiage as opposed to the content and relevant information is lost. It is intellectually dishonest to self-censor ourselves. (And, no, this isn't a call to yell, "FIRE!" in a crowded cafeteria...) The more we undermine our ability to plainly express ourselves, the more we undermine our ability to understand, respect, and comprehend each other plainly. Are we so weak-spined that we cannot bear the brunt of harsh truth?

I take shits more interesting than this broad


I am going to preface this post with the fact that I despise Perez Hilton. I think he is a world class douchequeef, and I wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire. He is as important to the human race as my blog is, which is no glowing commendation on my part.

However, when someone can steal Perez Hilton's FAIL-fucktacular thunder, I tend to take notice. Enter Miss California 2009. When asked about gay marriage, she eloquently stammers out like a retard, "We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite. And you know what, I think in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman...No offense to anybody out there, but that's how I was raised."

Good for you. Marry a man if you want to. I married a woman. What the fuck do I care if Suzy and Sally down the street want to get married, or Bill and Ted in the upstairs apartment, WHAT FUCKING DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE TO ME AND MY MARRIAGE?

As I have said on this blog before, I am no gay rights activist. At best I am indifferent, but when these sanctimonious fucks parade out in the public spotlight and advertise their intolerance a part of me seethes and burns. Good job, Miss California, you regurgitated your indoctrinated Christian beleifs. We are SO proud of you!

Oh, and as if all of this bullshit want bad enough, Faux News has picked this up and made her the new baby-face of the right. (How did the last beauty queen work out for you fucking retarded fuckstick assholes?) They portray her as "courageous" for "standing up for what she believes in". How courageous are they going to label the people that finally get tired of their bigoted rhetoric and finally shut their asses down for good?

I hope you enjoy your 15 minutes, Miss California. I further hope you don't mind Faux News shagging every ounce of spin they can get out of your pretty blonde Aryan archetype ass before they toss you aside. What's Sarah Palin been up to lately? Funny, I don't know, either.

Monday, April 13, 2009

I write timely movie reviews-"Religulous"


Anyone that is familiar at all with Bill Maher's viewpoint on religion and has passing familiarity with "mockumentaries" pretty much knew what to expect with "Religulous". It was a dirty, back-handed, quote-mined, cherry picked cheap shot at religion. Not that I really care, for the most part I think religious people can go fuck themselves.

Still, whereas it was remotely amusing to watch Maher debate the Bible with working class guys at the Trucker's Temple, or get "escorted" off of Mormon grounds, the only real entertaining and "laugh out loud" part of the whole movie was when he was in Amseterdam mind-fucking with the Marijuana Preacher deadhead. You could tell by the vacaous look on this old fucking hippy's face that he did indeed worship marijuana. DUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH.

I am not sure if it meant to be so disingenuous, but "Religulous" wasn't nearly as critical of religion as I might have expected. Having Bill Maher's smirky ass running around "questioning" religion isn't nearly as telling as the facts revolving around religion, then again, there is only so much material you can fit in 100 minutes.

Ultimately, if you are a passing fan of Maher, you will not begrudge the $2.99 spent to get this movie "On Demand". However, if you are a critical thinking athiest wanting to see religion get nostril fucked...well, keep waiting.

On the Bong! movie rating system, this gets a BONG!!.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Best. Book Review. Evar.


I am going to summarize the awesomenisity of this book review of "The Professor and The Dominatrix" with this single passage:

...the entire segment refers to the guy's penis as “Captain Marvel.” For two pages. What the hell. The description included such Shakespearean writing, such as: "She was a connoisseur. A gobbler of whangs par excellence."

BONG!!!!!!!

(btw, read the full review, it's great!)

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Drivers in Iowa City suck ass and need to DIAF


When I am out driving, I watch and observe every other driver I see on the fucking road. There are times (about 50 per day) where I cannot understand what motivated an individual to pick up their keys and get in their car. Why? Because, judging by the way they drive, they would be much happier sitting on a bus with a thumb up their ass and their mind wandering.

There is a small highway that goes East/West through Iowa City (Hwy 6). It is probably safe to call it the "main road through town". However, it is not the ONLY road through town. Yet this doesn't stop the namby-pamby-got-nothing-better-to-do-Sunday-fucking-drivers from puttering on out and clogging up traffic with their passive obliviousness.

If you don't fucking care about how long it is going to take you to get from fucking Point A to Point B, take the fucking side roads through town you worthless wastes of breathable oxygen! Just because YOU have nothing better than to fuck around all day doesn't mean there aren't people that actually want to do shit with their lives and don't feel like spending it wastefully slothing behind you at 15mph below the speed limit!

By Kahless' Beard! Don't even bother getting on that fucking highway unless you mean goddamn business!!! If paying attention and moving traffic along in an expedient, rational fashion scares you, TAKE THE BUS and rid us of your inability to function at the most rudimentary level of a rudimentary fucking procedure: driving. You suck and I fucking hate you and I want your car to break down. Then I want your house to collapse on you. And catch fire.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Civil Rights Win


Even though I don't consider myself anything remotely resembling a gay rights activist, I am happy for the gay/lesbian community and proud of Iowa for standing up for the civil rights of a minority group (namely, homosexuals) today by declaring UNANIMOUSLY an Iowa Constitutional amendment naming marriage as "between a man and woman" UNCONSTITUTIONAL.

I hope this shows a few things about the Midwest:
  • We aren't afraid to embrace progressive ideas
  • We aren't a bunch of ignorant Bible thumping pig fuckers
  • We CAN set a good example for the rest of the United States
I know all the Fox News drones in Iowa (like my Uncle Steve, luckily I am related to him only be marriage and not blood) will whine to Hannity and all that bullshit like that, but fuck you guys. Reasonable and just people will make reasonable and just decisions. Civil rights will always beat out hatred and prejudice. Whereas I personally don't give a dog's ass if two men or two women fucking feel like getting married, I *DO* care if somebody wants to stand in their way. SUCK IT!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

New Dream-"Trannysaurus Rex"


So, in this dream my brother and I are auto mechanics. We get a call that a woman has her 1986 Dodge Omni broken down on the interstate near the Hwy 1 exit (fuck you, I know where it is!). We actually walk out there with the idea that we will fix the car and drive it back to the shop (???).

As we approach the car, we can see her in the driver side using the mirror to do her make up. She sees us coming and gets out of the car. This is where my subconscious mind decides to prison rape me, be cause it was no woman getting out of that car, it was six foot two of crude ugly dude in a dress.

Now, many of has have seen crossdressers. Hell, some of them even look hot. Hell, some of them you don't even know about until they break up with you and explain why they always wanted it up the ass. Either way, this was NOT one of those trannies. This was fucking Red Grange in a dress.

Ultimately, the problem with the car was something ultra easy and we had it fixed in like ten minutes. We asked "Sheila" if we could drive it to the shop then she chould go on her way. My brother gets in the driver seat, I get in back, and Sheila gets in the passenger seat.

We no more than get 5 feet down the road, and "Goodbye Horses" starts playing on the radio. (Yes, the Silence of the Lambs dick tuck song.) My brother and I are fucking weirded out to the max, but we didn't want to suddenly change the radio station, so what do we do instead?

Dance in the car and sing-along-with-a-tranny.

There are bags full of dicks less ghey than that dream. Ugh.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Fucking ghey ass bullshit online drama


I fucking hate bullshit online drama. For those that don't know, I play a MMORPG (Lord of the Rings Online). If you don't know what a MMORPG, it's an online game where a bunch of people log on and try to kill each other with swords.

Occasionally, you end up making friends on these servers. If enough people play together they can make a group called a "kinship". It's basically like having a Klan meeting in the Honeycomb Hideout.

Anyway, furthermore, kins can get together and form "alliances", and that is where my lucky ass was stuck with this kin that had a loud mouthed asshole calling the shots. You invariably run into dickcheeseburgers on the net, but this guy's douche ubiquitousness was rubbing on my nerves.

So now the drama, one of the guys from another kin in the alliance said this guy was an asshole, so they all start fighting on MY kin's website about it. We politely try to tell them to fuck off and stop fighting in our back yard and they get all incredulous with US! Sorta like, "This is where we started it (for no apparent reason), and this is where we are going to finish it (even though you have politely tried to redirect us more than once)!"

Now, I actually fucking like the people in my kin. I have become friends with them, and my wife and my brother-in-law are members as well. The one drawback? They are kind of a "PG13" crowd. I am sure you don't have to read too much of this fucking blog of mine to ascertain that I am not much of a PG13 fucking person. Hell, on an average day I run "rated R for graphic violence, language, and explicit sexual content" baseline. I barely get to PG13 when I am high.

What this is all coming to was that we had loudmouthed jerkoffs on our message board fucking around and being all histrionic, and I had to sit back and fucking watch quietly while it was "diplomatically" dealt with. Since I was behooved to keep quiet there, I am venting all this bullshit no one but me will care about on my stupid fucking blog because unlike normal human beings, I like to fucking vent!

In fact, what I really felt like doing was grabbing numbnuts by the skull and dragging him off the message board, and fucking telling him not to open his fucking mouth again until he can act his goddamned age! Stuff the fucking "He said, she said" crap! You got called an asshole because you fucking act like one, shitdick! I don't fucking feel sorry for you, nor am I obliged to!

And to the rest of you that perpetuated the bullshit on our board and acted like we were pissing on your parade when we asked you to take it outside, I can only fucking say this: "Bravo! You did a great job of acting like adults with good judgment! You should be commended for your efforts for finding a quick and discrete resultion to an uneasy situation. Your ability to compose yourselves and act as adults was exemplary, and you are to be congratulated. Thank you so much for bringing all of your stink-ass fucking net-drama to a neutral site that wasn't even involved with the dispute and shitting all over our lawn only to wonder why we wanted you to leave. You are further to be monumentalized for your intellectual ferocity in determining the best course of action for civilized adults to follow."

Now, will all of you politely go fuck yourselves and kiss my ass on the way out? Thank you.