Birthday 1988-05-02 Gender
Male Location Holiday Near Tarpon Springs Florida Member Since 2005-09-23 Occupation US Army Reservist Real Name Casey Hengstebeck
Achievements Army enlistment Anime Fan Since March 12 1997 Favorite Anime Neon Genisis Evangelion, Bleach Goals Become a surgeon Hobbies Martial arts, Video Games, Anime and Manga Talents Marksman
myOtaku.com: Gene Outlaw
Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.
I'm sure most of you are aware, but incase your not, congress recently introduced a bill that would allow the US to slowly begin withdrawing troops from Iraq, which President Bush made good on his threat to veto.
Now, I am one such soldier who thinks this to be a rather arrogant move by the president. It's as if he did it out of spite for the new democratic congress. I wanted to hear some opinions on this recent event from my friends here on MyO.
I think this was just another bull headed move that will only further sabotage the president.
Anyone who's spent even a month in Iraq knows that were no really doing anything there anymore. Were fighting without a game plan. It feels less like a liberation and more like colonization. I think it would be in the best intrest of the US to back out now and focus on protecting the home front. As it stands the borders and ports of America are virtually unprotected.
Let's face it, this is a done deal, and the soldiers are doing there now is dieing. And trust me, that's no place you want to die in. These people are perhaps some of the most vicious the US have ever faced. It's hard to believe how far they'll go sometimes, but this only makes it that much more important that we hurry home and protect ourselves.
As a soldier in Iraq you can quickly go from the most loved person around to the most despised in matter of a few seconds. On one street they swarm around you, thanking and blessing you, and then just two or three streets down your not sure which one wants to kill you, or whether or not your in some rooftops snipers sights.
Bush thinks to pull out is to lose, but we sure as hell aren't gonna win by just staying there. What we need is a game plan. I'm a soldier. I'm prepared to die for my country if need be, but I don't want to be a meaningless one, because those are the kinds of deaths you face in Iraq. You die while fighting for nothing. At least let us know what were fighting against now, or what we're trying to achieve.
Just a passing thought
Why do people seem complacent? I just want to know. I want to know why people believe that there just fine where they are. You've got the guy who weights 800 lbs. and thinks nothing of it. The high school kid with failing grades and doesn't give it a thought.
When was it that people stopped caring? And why is it that the few people who still care get ridiculed by those who don't. The kids who worry about there grades have to worry about catching crap from the ones who don't. The people who are actually concerned about americas politics have to take crap from those who thinks it's a stupid waste of time.
Everyone has become fans of the idea that you can't change anything so why put forth the effort. When did this happen? Why did it happen? Is it just sheer laziness, or do people just expect everything to turn out alright in the end simply by letting things take there natural course.
It worries me everytime I see some kid standing a street corner at noon, smoking with his friends who look like they probably dropped out already. I watched alot of people call it quits back in high school and I never knew one of them to ever finish there GED either. They just didn't care.
Just the other day I ran into a kid I knew a few years back when I was a freshman. He dropped out in his junior year and was convinced that he would get his GED and be just fine. 5 years later, no GED, and working as the cashier to a McDonalds. 22 years old working under a 20 year old assistant manager. And I asked him right then "Was is worth it?"
He looked to me like he wanted to punch me, but ultiamtly said nothing. I took my food and I left, but the thought of what has happend to him has plagued me ever since that moment. I just don't understand it.
Alright, enough moping, it's time for a few more new rules.
All right. New Rule: Someone has to explain to President Bush that a timetable doesn't involve him actually having to know his times tables. I finally figured out the problem. Someone suggests "timetable" and he thinks, "6 times 9; 8 times 7...f*** it, no way, stay the course."
New Rule: Tell your kid to stop staring at me. I just watched you cave in to each of his in-flight demands, for his Teddy Grahams, his sippy-cup, his "gankie." And now you're going to let him turn around and eyeball me for a half-hour. Geez, you'd never think he's seen a guy get a handjob on a plane before.
New Rule: Let the Bush twins have a cocktail. You know, every time one of the Bush twins is spotted with a drink, somebody puts a picture of it on the Internet. Who cares?! You don't worry about a Bush when they're drinking. Worry about them when they get sober! These girls are 24, and I, for one, applaud their self-control. If my dad were President Bush, I'd be drunk in public so often, James Baker would have me killed.
And finally, New Rule, in two parts: A) You can't call yourself a think tank if all your ideas are stupid. And B), if you're someone from one of the think tanks that dreamed up the Iraq War, and who predicted that we'd be greeted as liberators, and that we wouldn't need a lot of troops, and that Iraqi oil would pay for the war, that the WMD's would be found, that the looting wasn't problematic, and the mission was accomplished, that the insurgency was in its last throes, that things would get better after the people voted, after the government was formed, after we got Saddam, after we got his kids, after we got Zarqawi, and that the whole bloody mess wouldn't turn into a civil war...you have to stop making predictions!
You know, there's a name for people who are always wrong about everything all the time: husbands. You know, it's a shame what happened to think tanks. They used to produce valuable, apolitical analysis. But partisanship crept into many of them. And the Bush Administration doesn't just come up with something as stupid as "If we leave now, they'll follow us home." No, they have someone from a think tank say it first. It's a way to lend respectability. The same reason a titty bar has food. I hear.
The think tanks that incubated the Iraq war have lofty names like the Heritage Foundation and the Project for a New American Century. Whatever. They've been wrong so often, I'm surprised they're not my broker. Richard Perle thought we could win Iraq with 40,000 troops. Paul Wolfowitz predicted, in 2003, that within a year, the grateful people of Baghdad would name some grand square in their fine city after President Bush. And he was right when he said they'd be waving American flags. They were on fire.
William Kristol pooh-poohed the fears that Sunnis and Shiites would be at each others' throats, as "the stuff of pop psychology." Right. And having your head chopped off is just a quick way to drop 11 pounds. Kristol, of course, is revered by much of the right because he was Dan Quayle's chief of staff, and was known as "Quayle's Brain." You know that. Which sounded impressive until I remembered Dan Quayle didn't have a brain.
And now, Mr. Kristol proposes immediate military action against Iran, predicting the Iranians will thank us for it. Hey, you know what, Nostrodamus? Why don't you sit this one out?
We'll get by using the Magic Eight Ball for a while. Because you guys have been so wrong about so much for so long, people are actually turning to the Democrats. So, we can say Iraq was a noble experiment, if that helps you. Our intention was good: to penetrate Iraq and bring it to a glorious, euphoric climax. But it's clear now that's just not going to happen. And yet we're still pounding away.
Causing the whole area to become painfully inflamed. And in that situation, the kindest thing you can do is...just pull out. Comments (0) |
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
It never ends with me
I'm still rolling here and it's starting to really get to me. I have to let it go somewhere and this is as good a place as any. Sorry to all of you who have to deal with this. I promise I'll try and mello out soon and make a cool calm and rational rant.
All right, New Rule: Advertisers have to find some other way to show that old people are active than just playing tennis. It doesn't matter if it's dentures, laxatives or a funeral home, if old people need it, the ad shows them playing tennis. If old people really played this much tennis, they'd knock their teeth out, crap themselves and die.
New Rule: The news has to stop coming to a screeching halt every time a Boy Scout gets lost in the woods. And when someone inevitably says, "Oh, there he is," you don't need to bring in the experts and the distant relatives to discuss the topic, "Oh, there he is." Besides, if you can't find your own way out of the woods, what was the point of being a Boy Scout?
New Rule: If he wants my vote, Barack Obama has to stop smiling so much and show me his "war" face. I can't tell if you're selling me your candidacy or Crest White Strips. I'm just looking out for you, Barack, because it's not just an old wives' tale; if you fake too many smiles, your face can get stuck.
New Rule: When you boost stamp prices, you have to raise them to an even number. Who goes to the post office? Old people. How long is it going to take each of them to fish out the extra pennies? All the time ever in history. And then, when will they play tennis?
And finally, New Rule: Traitors don't get to question my patriotism. What could be less patriotic than constantly screwing things up for America? You know, it's literally hard to keep up with the sheer volume of scandals in the Bush Administration. Which is why I like to download the latest scandal right onto my iPod. That way, I can catch up on this week's giant fuck-up on my drive in to work. In fact, Bush has so many scandals, he could open a chain of "Bush Scandal and Fuck-up" theme restaurants. "Ooh, should I get the Harriet Miers meatloaf or the Katrina crab cakes?
You know, not to generalize, but the 29% of people who still support President Bush are the ones who love to pronounce themselves more patriotic than the rest of us. But just saying you're patriotic is like saying you have a big cock. If you have to say it, chances are it's not true.
And, indeed, the party that flatters itself that they protect America better is the party that has exhausted the military, left the ports wide open and purposefully outed a CIA agent, Valerie Plame.
That's not treason anymore? Outing a spy? Did I mention it was one of our spies? And how despicable that Bush's lackeys attempted to diminish this crime by belittling her service, like she was just some chick who hung around the CIA. "An intern, really. Groupie, if you want to be mean about it."
No. Big lie. Valerie Plame was the CIA's operational officer in charge of counter-proliferation. Which means she tracked loose nukes. So, when Bush said, as he once did, that his absolute, number-one priority was preventing terrorists from getting loose nukes, okay, that's what she worked on. That's what she devoted her life to, staying undercover for 20 years, maintaining two identities every goddamn day. This is extraordinary service to your country.
Valerie Plame was the kind of real-life secret agent George Bush dreams of being when he's not too busy pretending to be a cowboy or a fighter pilot.
CIA agents are troops. This was a military assassination of one of our own, done through the press, ordered by Karl Rove. He said, of Valerie Plame, quote, "She's fair game." And then Cheney shot her.
George Bush likes to claim that he doesn't question his critics' patriotism, just their judgment. Well, let me be the first of your critics, Mr. President, to question your judgment and your patriotism. Because, let's not forget why they did it to her. Because Valerie Plame was married to this guy, Joe Wilson, who the Bush people hated because he busted them on one of their bullshit reasons for invading Iraq.
He was sent to the African country of Niger to see if Niger was selling nuclear fuel to Iraq. They weren't. It was bullshit, and he said so. In fact, his report was called, "Niger, Please!"
Valerie Plame's husband told the truth about their lie, so they were willing to jeopardize an entire network of spies to ruin her life. Wow, even the mob doesn't go after your family.
Mark Twain said, "Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it." And I say Valerie Plame is a patriot because she spent her life serving her country. Scooter Libby is not, because he spent his life serving Dick Cheney.
Valerie Plame kept her secrets. The Bush Administration leaked like the plumbing at Walter Reed.
In the year, 2008, I really think that Hillary Clinton should run for president on a platform of "restoring honor and integrity to the Oval Office."
Now for my moment of zen. I like this song. Both the song and the vid send a good message i encourage all to heed.
Still Rolling, Baby
I'm back for more mean and ugly venom. I'm just a ball of rage here folks and you get to enjoy it with me.
New Rule: The women of the Food Network have to stop faking orgasms when they taste their food. Half of that programming consists of cute, spunky women putting things in their mouth and giving us their "O" face. Which is why I can recite 23 different pasta recipes from memory, and I don't even cook. Rachael Ray makes a 30-minute meal, and I'm finished in 15.
New Rule: No more pictures of dead people in their coffins. It's a funeral, not a Kodak moment. I don't want to remember Boris Yeltsin on his back, eyes closed and lifeless. I want to remember Boris Yeltsin as he lived: on his back, eyes closed, and lifeless. Oh, he's dead. He won't hurt.
New Rule: When scientists find a new planet that's just like Earth, they have to give it a better name than Gliese 581. It sounds like an alias in a chat room. Are we supposed to explore it or think it's a horny teenager - go to its galaxy looking for sex and end up on "Dateline."
New Rule: Someone has to make a mustard container that doesn't squirt out yellow water before it gets to the actual mustard. Someone had to say it. I get all excited for lunch, and then Grey Poupon pees on my sandwich. I suppose I could shake the bottle first, but, f*ck you, I'm an American consumer! Not only should your mustard be pre-blended to my specifications, it should also whiten my teeth.
And, finally, New Rule: Guns don't kill people; crazy people kill people. Last week, in response to the Virginia Tech shootings, President Bush said, "When people see somebody who is exhibiting abnormal behavior, you do something about it." Thanks for the heads-up, McGruff.
But, if that's the case, then I want to warn the country about a man I saw last night on TV. He's six feet tall, Caucasian and he goes by the title "President of the United States."
I'm not kidding. George Bush is the crazy person we need to keep an eye on. He needs to stop taking money from the pharmaceutical lobby and start accepting samples. Only a delusional person could watch Alberto Gonzales before Congress last week do everything but say, "No hablo Ingles"- and rip up a picture of the Pope, and conclude that it "increased his confidence in the man." That's called disassociation from reality.
There's an old, frequently-used definition of insanity, which is "performing the same action over and over, expecting different results." And then it says, "See: 'The Surge.'" Now, I'm no doctor, but I am online. And in my professional opinion, George Bush is a paranoid schizophrenic.
He thinks the terrorists hate us for our freedom, and believes they're going to follow us home. That's why he keeps obsessively clearing brush, so Osama can't use it for cover.
Other symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia are: Do you see things that aren't there? Such as a link between 9/11 and Iraq? Do you - do you feel things that you shouldn't be feeling, like a sense of accomplishment? Do you have trouble organizing words into a coherent sentence? Do you hear voices that aren't really there? Like, oh, I don't know, your imaginary friend, Jesus? Telling you to start a war in the Middle East.
Well, guess what? There are a large number of people out there also suffering from the same delusions, because there are Republicans, there are conservatives, and then there are the Bushies. This is the 29 percent of Americans who still think he's doing "a heck of a job, Whitey." And I don't believe that it's coincidence that almost the same number of Americans - 25 percent - told a recent pollster that they believe that this year - this year, 2007 - would bring the Second Coming of Christ!
I have a hunch these are the same people. Because, if you think that you're going to meet Jesus before they cancel "Ugly Betty," then you're used to doing things by faith. And if you have so much blind faith that you think this war is winnable, you're nuts and you shouldn't be allowed near a voting booth.
There's only one job you can be trusted with, and that's picking out Phil Spector's next hairdo.
Now time for some stress relief. This is an AMV I found to one of my favorite songs going right now.
Song: Land Of Confusion
Album: Ten Thousand Fists
I'm on a Roll
I've been gone for o long I've got this great build up absolute bile to spill out all over my page so please wtick with me for the next week cause I'll probabaly be updating quite a bit.
First, more new rules.
New Rule: The outside world is not your house. Is it me, or will people wear just about anything to the supermarket? When you hear that announcement over the P.A., "Clean up in Aisle 7," they're talking to you! I mean, it's heartwarming that you held onto those comfy gym shorts from high school, but...I can see your balls. Which reminds me, I'm out of kiwi.
New Rule: This is going to sound harsh, but it has to be said. Don't let your dog drive. This week, a woman in Mongolia crashed her car while trying to teach her dog to drive. And the worst part wasn't the accident. It was when the cops came and the dog blamed it on the Jews.
New Rule: And I never thought I'd be saying this to an accused child-molester:"Pull down your pants!" At least a little. You know, below the nipples. If you don't want people to think you're a delusional retard, don't dress like this guy.
And while we're on the subject, New Rule: Don't say, "Her and I were engaged in a romantic and very sexual interaction." It's "she and I." "Her"is an object; "she" is a subject. Keep making mistakes like that, Mr. Karr, and you'll never get another teaching job.
New Rule: No more ski slope weddings. Let's remember what a ski slope wedding or a skydiving wedding or an underwater wedding really says: "My love for you is so strong, it doesn't warrant a day off from my hobby." On second thought, what better way to celebrate marriage: heading downhill and feeling frigid.
New Rule: If you have to eat crap, at least eat humane crap. This week, Burger King announced that it would begin buying eggs and pork from suppliers that don't keep animals in cages, which is such a rare act of corporate responsibility. I'm waiting from them to say, "April Fools." Hey, you keep this up and I'll put one of your crowns on, Burger King. And, now it won't because it's three in the morning, you're the only place open and I'm high. Not to be outdone, Taco Bell says they're going to start being nicer to their rats.
New Rule: Put your shirt on! Posing with your shirt off on the cover of your hip-hop album doesn't say "gansta." It says, "I'll blow you for some crack."
And finally, New Rule: Stop pretending your drugs are morally superior to my drugs, because you get yours at a store. This week, they released the autopsy report on Anna Nicole Smith, and the cause of death was what I always thought it was. Mad Cow.
No, it turns out she had nine different prescription drugs in her. Which, in the medical field, is known as the "Full Limbaugh."
They opened her up and a Walgreen's jumped out. Anti-depressants, anti-anxiety pills, sleeping pills, sedatives, Valium, methadone. This woman was killed by her doctor, who is a glorified bartender. And I'm not going to say his name, but only because, a) I don't want to get sued, and b) my back is killing me.
When are we going to get it? That America's most dangerous drugs are the legal ones in our medicine cabinets, while some of the most benign ones are growing under a heat lamp in my dressing room. I joke! I joke, of course. But, 40% of the U.S. population has tried pot. That's 94 million Americans. Or, as I call them, "my base."
Now, this week, in The American Scientist - a magazine George Bush wouldn't read if he got food poisoning in Mexico and it was the only thing he could reach from the toilet --described a study done in England that measured the lethality of various drugs, and found tobacco and alcohol far worse than pot, LSD or Ecstasy, which pretty much mirrors my own experiments in this same area.
The Beatles took LSD and wrote "Sgt. Pepper." Anna Nicole Smith took legal drugs and couldn't remember the number for "911." That is a number.
In conclusion, I wish I had more time to go into the fact that the drug war has always been about keeping black men from voting by finding out what they're addicted to and making it illegal. It's a miracle our government hasn't outlawed fat, white women.
Back with Avengenance
I have returned from my 9 month Hiatus, due to my military involvement to continue to explain and complain to the world, so for all those out there please remember, I still love ya. And now for my long missed, but so loved, New Rules.
New Rule: Members of Congress have to stop referring to the other party as their "friend from the other side of the aisle." Please, you're a Republican from Mississippi; he's Barney Frank. You two aren't friends. You're a reality show on Fox. In the future, just be a man about it and say, "I yield back my time to that little shit from North Carolina who won't shut up about Nancy Pelosi's plane."
New Rule: There's more to being smart than just not misspeaking. A couple of weeks ago, Senator Joe Biden's presidential campaign hit the ground flopping when he described Barack Obama as "articulate and clean." But if you think he's a racist, you're just playing "gotcha." Yes, the remark was cringe-worthy. It always is when someone old and out of touch says something creepy. Even a Chinaman knows that!
However, when it comes to the most important issue of the day, it was this same Joe Biden who recognized first that Iraq was going to end up three countries, and that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. And I agree. So what if Iraq gets broken up. It's a made-up country anyway. There's only been an Iraq since 1932. It's seven years younger than Paul Newman.
So, the guy who gets it on the big issue of the day, he can't run because he said a black man was "clean." And we care more about a one-second verbal brain fart than we do about who has the right answers.
Howard Dean has been a virtual Nostradamus on predicting what would happen in Iraq from the beginning, but he can't be president because he once shouted, "Yee-haw!"-- two decibels above what we, as Americans, know to be the appropriate level for "Yee-haw!" He's out. He screamed louder than the crowd screaming at him. And the media acted like grandpa just yelled out the "n" word at a ballgame.
John Kerry just botched a joke. But it was about the troops. [does falsetto gasp] So John Kerry, another guy who gets it about how to fight terrorism, he has to go away. Which I'm actually okay with, because watching him run again would be like watching Rex Grossman play another Super Bowl.
This is why I say every candidate must come out now and say or do the stupidest thing they possibly can, and get it out of the way! Hillary Clinton must mispronounce South Carolina, "Mouth Vagina." Barack Obama must tell people he's - quote - "bigger than Jesus."
Mitt Romney must pledge allegiance to the "fag." Rudy Giuliani has to declare at a press conference that he's cheating on his wife, but it's okay because he's undergoing cancer treatment and he can't get an erection anyway... Oh, he did? My bad.
So, does this mean that Joe Biden or Howard Dean should automatically be president? Of course not. But next time some real nasty shit happens to this country, remember, it might have something to do with our election process having turned into an episode of "Survivor."
Ranting, not good. Sorry, back to the rules.
All right, bloody New Rule: Blind people can't go hunting. To have to even say this. Texas just passed a bill permitting blind people to use laser sights so they can hunt with a friend who tells them where to aim. Why not just pick up the phone and pay some goombah to have a deer whacked? Or, better yet, just let the blind guy shoot your gun, and tell him, "Wow, you got one!" You know, there's a name for someone with no vision who fancies himself a hunter: Mitt Romney.
New Rule: Kenyans have to stop coming here to this country and winning our marathons. They're pouring over our borders and winning the marathons American runners could be winning. And I hope nobody does anything about it so we can all watch Bill O'Reilly get really mad and punch Geraldo in the face.
New Rule: You can't use sarcasm about people who think you're an idiot if you're an idiot. This week, Britney Spears went on a sarcastic screed about people who think she needs help. Then her dress fell off, she carved a swastika in her forehead and ran over her tits with a car. Which raises a question that's been bothering me for some time: can you un-masturbate to someone?
And, finally, New Rule: From now on, Earth Day really must be a year-round thing. And...and in honor of this Earth Day, starting Monday, supermarket clerks must stop putting the big bottle of detergent with the handle on it, in a plastic bag. I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but you see that handle you just lifted the detergent with? I could use that same handle to carry the detergent to my car.
And while we're at it, stop putting my liquor in a smaller paper sack before you put it in the big paper sack with my other stuff. What, are you afraid my groceries will think less of me if they see I've been drinking? Trust me, the broccoli doesn't care, and the condoms, they already know.
So, here's a quote from Albert Einstein. He said, if the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe, then man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination. No more plants. No more animals. No more man. Well, guess what? The bees are disappearing in massive numbers all around the world. And if you think I'm being alarmist, and that, "Oh, they'll figure out some way to pollinate the plants." No, they've tried.
For a lot of what we eat, only bees work. And they're not working. They're gone. It's called "colony collapse disorder," when the hive's inhabitants suddenly disappear and all that's left are a few queens and some immature workers. Like when a party winds down at Elton John's house. Queens imagery.
But, I think we are the ones suffering from colony collapse disorder. Because, although nobody really knows for sure what's killing the bees, it's not Al Qaeda, and it's not God doing some of his Old Testament shtick. And it's not Winnie the Pooh. It's us. It could be from pesticides or genetically-modified food or global warming, or the high fructose corn syrup we started to feed them.
Recently, it was discovered that bees won't fly near cell phones. The electromagnetic signals they emit might screw up the bees' navigation system, knocking them out of the sky. So, thanks, big mouth guy in line at Starbucks. You just killed us.
It's nature's way of saying, "Can you hear me now?"
Last week, I asked, if it solved global warming, would you give up the TV remote and go back to carting your fat a$$ over to the television set every time you wanted to change the channel. If it comes down to the cell phone versus the bee, will we choose to literally blather ourselves to death? Will we continue to tell ourselves that we don't have to solve environmental problems, we can just adapt? Build sea walls instead of stopping the ice caps from melting. Don't save the creatures of the earth in the oceans; just learn to eat the slime and the jellyfish that nothing can kill; like Chinese restaurants are already doing.
You know what? Maybe you don't need to talk on your cell phone all the time. Maybe you don't need a bag when you buy a keychain. Americans throw out 100 billion plastic bags a year, and they all take 1,000 years to decompose. Your children's children's children will never know you, but they'll know you once bought batteries at the 99-cents Store because the bag will still be caught in a tree. Except there won't be any trees.
Please educate someone about the birds and the bees. Because, without bees, humans become the canary in the coal mine. And we make bad canaries, because we're already such sheep. Comments (1) |
Monday, May 22, 2006
New rules for the masses
New Rule: Airplane black boxes must now be made out of Keith Richards. The man, who has taken more drugs than Whitney Houston, Rush Limbaugh and Robert Downey, Jr., combined, recently fell out of a tree, and then crashed a jet ski. And yet, somehow, that cigarette never fell out of his mouth. What is this guy still running on? I've got to know. Because I'm beginning to think the future of medicine isn't injecting stem cells, it's injecting heroin.
New Rule: Anna Nicole Smith can't get pregnant until Britney's baby grows up. There are just not enough investigators at Child Family Services to keep these two infants alive at the same time. Anna Nicole, if you're that desperate for a toothless human who can barely speak and cries every time he sees your breasts, find yourself another husband.
New Rule: If Latino immigrants want to be taken seriously, they have to stop wearing the giant hats! The civil rights marchers in the fifties didn't dress like Buckwheat and carry watermelons! You're a proud immigrant demanding his rights! Not the Frito-Bandito!
New Rule: Instead of the White House hiring Tony Snow away from Fox News, the White House and Fox News should just merge. Republicans should also admit that they secretly picked the judges on "American Idol" to reinforce their three favorite stereotypes: a black guy who doesn't do anything; a woman who doesn't know anything; and a foreigner who should go home.
New Rule: You can't write the story of your life if you're too young to have had one. This week we found out that best-selling teenage author Kaavya Viswanathan stole huge honking chunks of her first novel. Everybody got a little suspicious when the teenage heroine went shopping at the mall and ended up hiding from the Nazis in an attic in Holland. I tell you, between this and that Million Little Pieces book being phony, I've got half a mind to quit Oprah's Book Club!
And finally, New Rule: Drug companies have to stop making up diseases! I don't know - I don't know what the terrorists are planning next for America, but if I had every problem they talk about in medicine commercials: breathing, lifting, walking, sitting, sleeping, crapping, not crapping, getting a boner and male pattern menopause—I would welcome death. Bring it on! Deadly nerve gas? Please, I've got seasonal allergies!
I mean, it seems like every time I turn on the TV these days, I see some ad for some drug I never heard of, to treat some disease I never heard of. That's not a stomach ache you have from eating the chili-cheese fries at Johnny Rockets, it's Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Or I.B.S. Or as I call it, "B.S." Which would also apply to the dreaded "Social Anxiety Disorder." Or as we used to call it, "shyness." And we treated it with an old home recipe: scotch and water.
Your wife doesn't get turned on? Well, it couldn't be because you're a snowman-shaped sausage casing--so full of beer you sweat hops. It's because she has "Female Sexual Dysfunction."
And before they came up with "Restless Leg Syndrome," did that even exist? Did you ever hear someone say, "Sorry I couldn't make the party, Bill." "The old restless leg was acting up." You know, next time you have an uncontrollable urge to move your feet, maybe you should just...move your feet! Your feet are trying to tell you the same thing your dog is trying to tell you when he's been cooped up in the house all day: "I want to go for a walk!"
But be careful. There's a Tasmanian Devil living under your toenail.
I am waiting for the ad that tells me that my morning hard-on is actually "Superfluous Rigidity Syndrome." Or S.R.S. And there's a cartoon bunny who says, "Are you bothered by morning stiffness?" "Try Flaccidix." "Flaccidix is specially formulated to make your penis shiny and more manageable." "Side effects: you bleed from your pores and then explode and die." "And/or dry mouth."
Now, just in the last two years, the "medicines" that have made the headlines under the category, "Take two and call me in the morning if you're still alive," include Vioxx, Ambien, Zyprexa, Ortho Evra, Prempro, Zoloft, Paxil, Ephedra, Celebrex and Fosamax.
And yet it was marijuana last week that was declared by the FDA to have no known medical value. Actually, what marijuana has is no known lobbying value. And, yes - yes, back in 1999, when we still believed in science, the National Academy of Science said what millions already knew from practical use, that weed is useful in treating pain, nausea and weight loss. And that lab rats exposed to it were 38% more likely to forget the maze and just kick it old school.
Folks, drug companies are pushers, and Congress and the FDA are the cop on the beat who's been paid off to look the other way. New drugs used to have to go through a rigorous process of testing. Now they just give it to Courtney Love, and if she lives, it's approved.
And by the way, just to prove who has the power in this country, that fake FDA report about marijuana having no medical value was issued - on purpose, I am sure - on April 20th - four-twenty. And that joke only makes sense to stoners.
It's been a awhile.
Sorry for my leave of absense, but I had alot of things to take care of before graduation. Anyway, I gradutaed last night so I'm gonna have some more free time on my hands. And without further adue, it's time for new rules.
New Rule: You can't chant "America, you lose," at your trial, and then ask for another chance. Zacarias Moussaioui says he has more faith in juries now, and he wants to change his plea to "not guilty." Sorry, Zac, that's not how we roll here. If we wanted to give second chances to loons who scream death threats, we'd remarry Charlie Sheen.
New Rule: If turning on my cell phone can bring down your commercial airliner, build a better plane. Right? I mean, the number of people who carry hand-held electrical devices these days equals the number of people who have hands. To give them all veto power over whether the other passengers live or die seems like a flaw in the system.
New Rule: Men are supposed to have hair. Norelco has introduced a men's shaver designed to shave all body zones, including armpits and the groin area. Oh, good, just what I've always wanted: hundreds of tiny, vibrating, steel blades on my nutsack. But, go ahead, all you metrosexuals. Shave your pits, trim your groin. And then when you've removed all traces of masculinity, use the handy knife attachment to cut off your penis.
Rule: If you want to live the American dream, move to Europe. According to a new study, climbing up the economic ladder in this country is much harder than in just about every other wealthy nation. If you're born poor here, you pretty much stay that way. And fat-cat catering Republicans get poor people to vote for them because they get them to vote their dreams, not their self-interests. That's why lots of people of modest means are all for getting rid of the estate tax, a tax which affects one percent of us, the richest one percent of us. You know, the ones with estates.
A category also familiar by the name, "Not you." You know, America has a lottery mentality. We think we can party till we're 40, fail in business after business, and then somehow wind up as president of the United States.
Okay, bad example. But our philosophy does come from the lottery. Hey, you never know! Yes, I do. In America, if you're not born rich, you'll die tryin', bitch. Because you're not going to win the lottery. You're not going to inherit a fortune from a distant relative. Or marry a prince. Or get that call from Hollywood saying they're making a movie out of your MySpace page.
Oh, yeah. According to a recent survey, 98% of college freshman agreed with the statement, "I am sure that one day I will get where I want to be in life." I'm sorry. You have yourself mixed up with the Asian kid.
You know, I have never understood how Americans can talk so much about dreams, how great it is to have a dream, but make absolutely no judgments about what the dream is! Does it matter that your kids all want to be rockers and rappers and ballers and divas? Watch MTV for a day. You'll see. Your kid's dream is to be on "Cribs," living in a 50-room mansion with a shark tank and a Whitney Houston "crack nook." It's a dream about being able to spend your life pigging out on ego and money and attention in the way only this wonderful business of our allows.
So, fine. But do we have to admire it? Do we have to treat that dream the same as if it was a dream to teach, or join Doctors Without Borders? Do we have to...do we have to honor our kids for wanting to go from rags...to bitches? For wanting to live out an eternal weekend that never turns to Monday, snorting caviar off their Bentleys and air-guitaring their way to the cover of US magazine? Sadly, yes. Or they'll refuse to teach you how to clear the porn trail off your computer.
So I'm not saying, "Stop dreaming." I'm just saying, "Wake up." Because no one is ever going to give you half-a-billion dollars for sitting around like a lump. They can't. They've already given it to this "bastard."
That's right the former chairman of Exxon/Mobile, Lee "Fat Bastard" Raymond. Comments (2) |
Monday, May 1, 2006
New Rules on a whim
New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.
New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.
New Rule: I'm not an expert on child psychology, but I'm willing to go out on a limb and say any student who makes his hair into horns deserves a little extra watching.
New Rule: Stop bringing out DVD's so soon! I'm still ignoring you in the theater!
New Rule: The guy who wrote Why Do Men Have Nipples? must write another book called If You Care, Then You're Gay.
New Rule: This year, instead of running a new Kentucky Derby, Kentucky must just show an old one. No one will know the difference. They've been showing the same NASCAR race since 1994, and no one seems to mind.
New rules on a whim
New Rule: Angelina Jolie must adopt Britney Spears' baby. Britney Spears was recently blessed with a drooling, helpless, little dependent. And after marrying Kevin Federline, they had a baby. Since then, that baby's been dropped and misplaced more often than a set of car keys. First, Britney blamed the nanny, then she blamed the high chair, then she blamed the media. Hold on, I think we've found a replacement for Scott McClellan!
Speaking of which, New Rule: Scott McClellan must move to Hollywood and get into show business. He's proven he's got the two skills needed to make it big in this town: lying and pretending the boss is a genius. All he needs now is a Prius and a trophy wife and he'll be running Warner Bros. in a year.
New Rule: Tom Cruise must eat his baby and rename his movie. Apparently the sequel to "Mission: Impossible II" isn't "Mission: Impossible III." It's "m:i:3." That's "m-colon-i-colon-3." I guess Tom just likes fitting in colons. And on the...and on the home front, he's already announced plans to eat his baby's placenta...with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Tom, just go ahead and finish the whole thing, because that kid is going to be one screwed up little Martian anyway. Even Michael Jackson is thinking, "Wow, I never literally ate a kid."
New Rule: Sending someone a birthday e-card doesn't count. If you can't get your s*** together enough to go to Sav-On and pick out an actual physical birthday card, don't bother. I'm not expecting Hallmark. I know you don't care enough to send the "very best," but just don't send the very worst. Or else, when you die, I'll be forced to deliver an e-eulogy.
New Rule: If your people are so desperate mannequins make them horny, there's something wrong with your religion. Police in Iran confiscated 65 mannequins for being too sexy. Guys, I'm sorry, but it's the mannequins that are supposed to have the sticks up their asses. In the free West, we don't have impure thoughts about inert hunks of tit-shaped plastic. We have Britney Spears. That got them. Comments (1) |