Friday, December 31, 2004

Happy New Years: Don't Drink and Cry (Like Me)

I don't have plans for New Years Eve. I am considering going out, drinking a substantial amount of Red Bull & Vodka, and finishing the night off by vomiting all over my hamsters. However, I will probably turn in early tonight, say, around 10:30pm and leave the drunken hijinks--sex, furniture repair, sign stealing and alien scrotum pulling-- to the rest of you.

By the way, this is why I love internationalism.



Go to Hell

Thursday, December 30, 2004

They Call It a Comeback

Ken Jennings is coming back this spring. He will play in the Jeopardy "Super" Tournament of Champions--competing against the best of the cerebral best. In other words, it is going to be Ken Jennings, King of the BuzzING, v. the collective genius of Jeopardy. My money is on Ken.

Go to Hell

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

He will live forever on TNT

God Speed Lenny.

Go to Hell

Monday, December 27, 2004

I Don't Rue Today

The lights are back on. All is right with the world. Bob is happy, or at least as happy as a misanthropic lard-ass can be.

Apparently in a Sex-Ed program, focusing on marriage is detrimental to children from non-traditional families--which is code for single parent and polygamous households. Here is to a nation of emotionally stunted children, who don't know what happened to daddy but are very secure in their own sexual promiscuity.

This is an old issue, but it still makes me smile at how inanity rules the day in the hippieverse. Amnesty International fails to realize that guns kill people too; I am betting a shotgun shot to the chest poses more threat of permanent injury and death than a taser.

Quote of the Day: This is not a crackhouse. (Mother in response to the little brother's assertion that the house smelled like a crackhouse)

Go to Hell

Friday, December 24, 2004

Sacrilege On His Birthday Is Bad
My Power Being Out Is Worse

Bob doesn't have power. It looks as if he won't have power till Sunday evening. Bob is unhappy. He wonders why AEP employees--the minions of the local Electric monopoly--are allowed to celebrate Christmas tomorrow, when he, most beloved child of Krishna, is forced to endure in the darkness. Perhaps it is asking too much for my eletricity to be on Christmas Day. Perhaps I should be thankful for what I have. Perhaps Brittany Spears isn't a trailer trash whore gone good. Perhaps I don't give a flying fuck--I WANT MY ELECTRICITY TURNED ON YESTERDAY, though any time in the next four hours would suffice.

This post is a call to arms to all of the Non-Christian, hell bound workers at AEP: If you are Jewish, Muslim, Mormon, Agnostic, Atheist, Buddhist, Hindu or member of any other polytheistic and/or pagan tradition--see Catholicism--please report to work and turn on Bob's electric. God hates you very much and Jesus isn't terribly pleased with you, either. You are not invited to his birthday, but I, most beloved of the flatulent sinners, offer you a chance for redemption: TURN ON MY POWER within the next five hours and automatically get into Heaven. (This offer doesn't apply to Sodomites, Cunnilingers and the Welsh.)


Go to Hell

This post was written from parts unknown, i.e. here.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Why the Islamic Terrorists Hate Us

Three words that should never be put together: Yoga Booty Ballet.

Go to Hell

Monday, December 20, 2004

The Meaning of Friendship

Friend: You know Bob, you are looking a little overweight. You need to be active, to do something with yourself.

Me: I am touched.

Friend: What?

Me: You are the first person to ever call me a "little overweight." Usually they just call me fat ass and wish me a good day.

Friend: You need help.

Me: Not when I have concerned friends like you, asshole.

Go to Hell

Sunday, December 19, 2004

What has the (virtual) world come to?

$26,500 for a tropical island, sounds too good to be true, right? Of course it is, because this piece of volcanic rock doesn't actually exist in the real world; it is a piece of a virtual real estate found in the MMORPG Project Entropia. After reading this article, which details this act of fiscal irresponsibility, I am taken aback by three facts:

  1. Australians have internet connections.
  2. That it is plausible that David Storey, the nut in question, could make a profit off of leasing virtual mining & hunting rights.
  3. There are people--educated people, mind you--who study the economies of virtual worlds.


I am not so sure about intelligent life on Earth, but if it is to be found, I am now betting it will be discovered in a video game.

Go to Hell

I will never be able to afford wasting $26,500 in a year--college doesn't count, since I already graduated, however, if I did have that kind of money it would be wasted on pizza, porn and pork products.

Puppet Master V. Demonic Toys

Remember Corey Feldman, well this is what he does now.

I am a semi-fan of the Puppet Master series, so I am actually going to sit through this Sci Fi Original, that and I don't have a social life--my Saturday's are empty from now until ad infinitum.

By the way, Vanessa Angel is still hot and she still can't act, too. I miss the days of Weird Science (T.V. Series) and the lotion aided glory that came with watching Vanessa Angel playact as a computer jinni.


Go to Hell

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Too Much Caffenine, Too Little Life to Live

I have a great idea. A thought that will change the course of human history; mankind will forevermore be in my debt after sharing this plan. People will say: "Where did Bob learn of such an idea? It is as if he sat at the foot God and learned his divine wisdom." Brace yourself, seriously, make sure you are sitting down or holding on to something for support, because here it is.

We need to oxygenate space. Imagine for a moment, if you will, filling the vacuous void with clean, crisp Terran air. Instead of swimming in the oceans and risking the wrath of Great White Sharks and Giant Squids, we will now be able to swim through space; to sit at doorstop of heaven and hear the Angelic Chorus sing of impossible possibilities.

Now I know that it will take a a lot of air to fill the infinite void that is space, but we have plenty of it on Earth to go around. I figure if everyone learns to take really shallow breathes, Oxygenated Space can be a reality within my lifetime or so the Devil-Goat tells me.

For the very first time, Space will be a breath of fresh air.

Go to Hell

Corrective Racism

Me: Loading furniture sucks...I don't like this part of the business

Dad: Yea, there is a lot of nigger work in the antique business.

I considered scolding him for being a racist, but that has yet to work, so I went with another strategy.

Me: Dad, you told me that blacks were lazy and, by in large, wished only to live off of government aid.

Dad: Yea, they are no good.

Me: If blacks are lazy, then how is loading furniture "nigger" work? You have told me, time and again, that they (Africoons) don't work unless forced to, and then, only for short periods of time; therefore how can any sort of labor--physical or otherwise-- be associated with them (Antique Farm Equipment). Isn't black the antithesis of work--or was that white.

Dad: What are you trying to say?

Me: Well, I know of a very industrious race, a group of people that work hard and often find themselves engaged in menial, physical labor. Perhaps you should have said "Yea, there is a lot of wetback work in the antique business."

Dad: I like that. I like that a lot, son. Let’s go get lunch, I am buying.


Racism--The key to a good father-son relationship.

Go to Hell

Friday, December 17, 2004

A Moment of Self Indulgence

A young lady, her sister and mother decided to shop in my store. The mother was old, the sister was frumpy (lard ass) and the young lady was cute--in an East Coast, no breasts to speak of way. They spent an inordinate amount of time (thirty minutes)--the store front is 15 x 10', at most--looking over our wares, however; I was willing to forgive their malfunctioning internal clocks, since, as I said earlier, the young lady was relatively attractive. I attempted to engage in small talk with the young lady, sadly the only thing that to mind was "hello." She nodded in acknowledgment, or was it a stifled sneeze; regardless, "hello" was the extent our conversation.

Several minutes later the fat sister smiled at me, which has to count for something--especially for lonely, fat me. The mother, apparently dismayed at the obvious lust the obese daughter was showing, deemed it time to go. The sans breast girl brought up her purchase, several political pins and I proceeded to write up a ticket.

Earlier in the afternoon, mother gave me a Slim Jim in lieu of allowing me to go to lunch. I greedily chewed it down, as if it was the last piece of beef jerky in the world. For whatever reason, call it kismet if you wish, the Slim Jim meal didn't sit well with my ironclad stomach. My daily diet has killed lesser men: I am the eater of 5,000 daily calories, the drinker of three Mt. Dew two-liters in ninety seconds, the swallower of week old, unrefrigerated pizza. Yet, this single strand of jerky would not sit still; my gut rumbled like laughing belly of Ganesh. It would know gastric freedom and so it did.

Right as I was telling the pretty, flat-chested New Englander her total, I violently exhaled an unholy air--which reeked of stale Slim Jim and rotten eggs--right into her face. In other words, I belched in the pretty girl's face.

We finished the transaction in silence, though her fat-ass whore of a sister laughed like a retarded bitch, while her mother simply shook her head in disgust.

The store made $3.00; I lost what little remained of my self respect.

Go to Hell

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Why I need TiVo

I watched the first half of Arrested Development-Season 1. It is the funniest thing going since my first sexual encounter; though, unlike my first time, Arrested Develpment lives up to the hype and doesn't require several attempts to come to comedic fruition

Buy the DVD and further support the future of the show by watching it on Fox--if you can deal with the insidious threat to human coginizance known as commericals.

Go to Hell

Monday, December 13, 2004

A season of giving--lap dances

Where does charity end and free publicity for whores-on-poles begin? I wouldn't have accepted the gifts, either, however; I would encourage the unwed, welfare moms--who live in the housing project--to look into stripping as a way to provide for their children.

Give a baby's mamma a dollar and you feed her fish scales habit for a a day. Teach her to gyrate on a pole and she will smoke crack for a lifetime. (The Analects by Bob, p. 353)

Go to Hell

Friday, December 10, 2004

A Man Of My Own Heart

I know how he feels. When the food is too cold, the manager needs to be dismembered.

Go to Hell

Thursday, December 09, 2004

James T. Kirk's Guide to Permissive Parenting

Here is a radical approach to child rearing. Though, I would recommend something less drastic: corporal punishment, more corporal punishment, and even more corporal punishment.

Then again, Dr. Spock knows best--though what would Dr. Leonard H. McCoy say?

Go to Hell

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

George Herman Ruth was a drunk, a womanizer and overly fond of greasy food; but he wasn't a cheating bitch.

It appears that Major League Baseball is going to develop a comprehensive steroid abuse policy. I would like to think the Player's Union and Team Owners came to this decision out of love for the game; of course, potential legislation by the likes of John McCain probably helped the process along. My only concern--actually, it is more of a thought, really--is why in the fuck is this even an issue.

Steroids are illegal. There are hundreds of federal, state and local laws that prohibit the sell, distribution and use of illegal steroids. In other words, it is against the FUCKING LAW to use S T E R O I D S. MLB--god love its corrupt soul--is not now, or has ever been, excluded from these legal mandates. McCain shouldn't have threatened new legislation; he should simply have called the appropriate law enforcement authorities. Let them set up a few stings, arrest a few dozen players, and imprison the ones who aren't willing to reveal who gave them the steroids.

I don’t care if someone uses illegal drugs, as long as you don't bitch about the consequences--jail, prostitution, retardation, anal rape and genital warts. Major League Baseball players are welcome to use steroids; in fact, I am all for a league of muscle-bound, shriveled balled, psychopaths. I am just tired of hearing about the story. Here is my solution: Ban the players who cheat, be it through the use of steroids, corked bats or gambling on ones team. Zero tolerance is a draconian measure, but any policy that makes paupers of millionaires is a good thing in my book.

Go to Hell

Saturday, December 04, 2004

Prolicide

What is the greatest threat of Islamo-fascism? Some will say it's nuclear and chemical warfare, others will contend its the loss of liberty, most fear the advent of domestic terrorism--suicide bombers come to the Suburbs, and I can't take umbrage with these fears, and I don't know what the singular greatest threat is, or even if one nightmarish scenario takes precedence over another. I do know this, however: The greatest evil caused by Fascism, be it Islamic or secular in a nature, is the destruction of innocence. The attacks on 9/11 stand as the vilest act of terrorism in history, yet that event, along with all other terror attacks, pales in comparison to the destruction being wrought on the souls of millions of children.

Children become adults; it is the chronology of man. Along the way, we become less naive, cast off the shackles of ignorance and lose a good deal of childhood innocence. The point is that children grow up and lose much of what makes them so precious--innocence. However, as I said earlier, this is a natural phenomena, it is the key component of the human condition and one that we all experience, in one form or another. The problem is that Islamic terrorism doesn't allow this process to occur, nor does it simply hasten it--like our culture of sex, violence and egocentricity does,-- instead it actively seeks to destroy the innocence of children; replacing it with vitriol hate and willful ignorance.


The Jews eat children; they rape our women and kill our men. The United States is the progenitor of all that is unholy, they value freedom over Allah, place life before honor and, worst of all, they support the Jews. We must kill the infidels, at all costs. Sacrifice your life and know absolute bliss, otherwise you risk eternal damnation at the hands of Western devils and treacherous Jews. In other words, the West is bad, America is worse, and the Jews are pure evil.

This is taught to countless children, it is force fed from birth and continually reinforced throughout adolescence. This dogma is responsible for the deaths of their children's souls. There is no worse crime, there is no greater evil. They are replacing the ignorance of naiveté with the ignorance of blind hate. The fact that this is done under the guise of religion makes pure evil somehow worse.

President Bush used the term Axis of Evil, and he was absolutely correct in doing so. He limited the term to several nations, though it truly applies to many more.(That is a post for another day) These nations feed their children a steady diet of hate; generation after generation is lost. It isn't about economics, it isn't about values and morality, it isn't about truth: It is about the annihliation of youth and the price that comes with it. Fascism is responsible for the deaths of millions and destruction of innocence in so many more.

I wish that we could fight hate with love; that truth overcomes lies; but I fear there is little that can be done externally, leaving the reclamation of their children's souls to the same people that allowed them to be taken away in the first place.

Go to Hell

Friday, December 03, 2004

I am an asshole

A friend told me that I am too cynical. He believes I think the worst about people, places and things. He was very smug about his observation, as if he had made some grand discovery that escaped the notice of everyday man. Of course, I am cynical about life; just as birds fly, fish swim, and the ACLU harbors terrorists, I see the worst in existence. It is my natural inclination, if you will.

However, upon further introspection, which took about thirty seconds of thought--fifteen of which dealt with killing squirrels, I concluded it wasn't cynicism alone that informed my being. I not only see the worst, I actively hope for it. In other words, I take joy in the failings of others, if only to prove my cynicism correct. The foulability of man isn't enough; his outright and utter failure is what I desire. Then again, that's just me.

Go to Hell

Moral Quandary

Is it wrong to want to hit this? The more I learn about her case, the more I want to lick in-between her toes.

Go to Hell

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Confederacy of One

I am the Ignatius Reilly of the twenty-first century. Many of you may not know who Ignatius is. Simply stating that he is the literary equivalent of Bob is not enough. Mr. Reilly, whose creation may very well have resulted in Toole's (the author) suicide, is a literary character without equal or merit. He is a loathsome, egocentric madman who sees modernity as hopeless corrupt; he fights against the oppression of everyday by virtue of sleeping, eating, watching cartoons and reveling in his flatulence. Yet, even this bloated messiah of intemperance has good points; sadly they are buried underneath a labyrinth of lard and intellectual nihilism.

I don't particularly like the character, but I can't deny we are very much alike. I spend my days in self-exile, pondering the inevitable end of civilization, bemoaning the barbarians within our own gates. Too, I watch an unhealthy amount of cartoons, consume an even unhealthier amount of food and suffer from insufferable bouts of gas--my pyloric valve is a difficult mistress. Our greatest similarity is not surprising, at least for those who have read the book and know anything about my person, we both find work to be a pedestrian cause; it is an end to reason, not a means to an end.

I do admit that finding my entire psyche, the entirety of my being, encapsulated in a little under four hundred pages is a bit depressing. Though, much like the book, my life consists of a series of comedic disasters, however; unlike Reilly, I am not destined to escape the mono-color walls, no, Bob is clearly set for a long stay in the ward of mental delving.

There truly is a Confederacy of Dunces that stands in my way; it is a Confederacy of one--me.


Go to Hell

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Bob & Allah Approve of this Message

Have you heard about the new Muslim Lifestyle Network? I am sure it is flagship show "How did we only manage to kill 3,500 people on 9/11?" will resonate with the American public. Though, I am not so sure about "Talking Puppet Jihad" or their controversial reality show, "Suicide Bombers: The New Hebrew Holocaust." Then again, I don't have my finger on the pulse of America, or in this case a gun to our collective heads. One can only hope that it will be as uplifting as BET--the network that put the nig back into black. (Looping gangsta rap videos throughout the day that even the corrupter of all that is good--MTV--won't run.)

While on the subject of intolerance, I wanted to give a hearty congrats to South Park for tackling the controversial issue that is Paris Hilton. She is the most unfairly maligned of the psedo-celebrity whores. Can a girl suck-start a Harley and still be an untalented rich bitch? Paris Hilton proves both facts are not mutually exclusive, time and again.

All this talk about Paris Hilton reminded me of this article on abortions gone badly. Death--both that of the child and mother-- is an adverse side effect, obviously. But really, isn't the alternative much worse: To take responsibility for ones actions and give birth to a child. It is good to know that feminism is alive and well.

Go to Hell

This post is dedicated to Ken Jennings. The streak might be over (damn you H&R Block) but his legacy will never die. He will be forever known as the second greatest Mormon superstar. (Steve Young is first)

Human Ingenuity

The clock reads 2:35 am and I almost didn't poop. It is a common occurrence for Bob to wake up and take an early morning bowel constitutional. Usually it is a painless affair, or relatively painless--a diet consisting of Taco Bell and White Castle does tend to get a bit "messy." I had hoped to sit down, grunt a few dozen times and drop brown napalm on the porcelain jungle, however; that wasn't to be the case.

Earlier in the night, before going to bed, I had defecated and defecated well. I used the customary half a roll of toilet paper, as my hairy inner buttock requires heavy maintenance and eternal vigilance, unbeknownst to me this was not ordinary toilet paper, it was 2-ply. In other words, the sheets were double thick and, as I learned several hours later, much more likely to clog a toilet.

I am not one to be prepared in life; much of my existence consists of coasting by on my good looks, charm and rapier-like wit. Coasting is not the right word, actually. Drowning in my inequities would be more precise. Anyway, I never before saw fit to purchase a toilet plunger. A clogged toilet happened to other people--Democrats for example--but the porcelain god was full of tribute and ready to "give" back. I didn't know what to do, where to turn to, or who to call. I couldn't go next door and borrow/steal the parent’s plunger, it was too late at night and last time I came over after midnight, mom threatened to shoot me in the balls. I considered driving to Wal-Mart or Kroger to buy a plunger but it was cold outside and shitting my pants (at least partially so) isn't terribly uncommon, so I prioritized warmth over personal hygiene. You will be glad to know that it didn't come to splattering my undies, instead something far worse happened.

Here is what I mean by clogged: the toilet was filled with urine, brown sludge and the odd piece of corn; it was a cornucopia of the human digestive and excretory systems. I decided to think outside the box and endeavor how one man--sans a plunger--could overcome a shit filled flotsam. Then it hit me, I would use my toothbrush to push the excess toilet paper through the pipes. It seems that a toothbrush wasn't designed for this process as it broke in two. I was out of ideas, and the shock of cold water from the bowl considerably expedited my need to shit. It was now, never or in my pants. I decided to give it one last try and stuck my entire fist into the hole, which seemed to fit perfectly, and hoped to make a plunger out of my arm. It sort of worked. Ten minutes and three wet farts later I managed to unclog the toilet with only the aid of my child-sized fist. My colon was overjoyed.

The lesson from this incident: Don't shake hands with Bob.


Go to Hell

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Be Thankful for what you don't have--namely, my life


Christmas is just around the corner. It is a time of happiness, a season to appreciate what we have, and in my case, what I don't have. Here are the haves and have nots of Bob.


The Haves


The early stages of heart disease

An ass that itches in perpetuity

Two Devotees of the Hamster God--Me

Erectile Function

A fear of alien abduction--Damn you Signs

The Devil Goat who lives underneath my trailer

A beautiful, bountiful pair of man teats

A penis

An eerie similarity to Ignatius Reilly (Thanks for pointing that out, Harty)


Have Nots


A girlfriend/money guzzling whore

The love of my family

A life

Worthwhile friends (I kid, not really)

A ten inch penis, though I am almost a third of the way there

An enlarged clitoris

Dead Bodies buried underneath my trailer (There is always next year)

A job

Money

Self-Respect

Hope for the Future

The ability to write functional sentences

The capability to properly regulate my glucose levels

15 Gigs of Porn (I deleted it during a moment of moral weakness)



As you can see, I live a full life, too bad it is mostly filled with shit.

Go to Hell

Thursday, November 25, 2004

I am the black sheep of my mother's family

The feast did commence and the relative did not die. I am overjoyed with the former and oblivious about the latter. I learned long ago to ignore the Jerry Springer portion of my lineage. Though the story of my cousin versus the moving vehicle must be told, if only for cheap laughs.

My cousin, let's call him Stupid Fuck, earned $80.00 for doing yard work for a neighbor. Stupid Fuck was overjoyed to have $80.00 since he typically only gets money from terrorizing school children for lunch money. Much like me, Stupid fuck has never worked--it is a genetic trait we inherited from my deceased grandfather/grifter. Of course, he is only seventeen years old, so there is still hope. (He is actually hopeless. I just needed a segue into detailing his age) This precocious teenager decided to spend his money in a frivolous manner, not unlike most of his peers, however; instead of buying CD's, pornography, or oral favors from a homeless fat chick named Shelia, Stupid Fuck purchased a fifth of whiskey and fish scales. I know what you’re thinking, what is a fifth of whiskey? Well, it is enough liquor to make a stupid teenager believe that speeding cars are of no matter. Oh, and though you probably already know, fish scales is what people in the know (drug dealers and junkies) call cocaine/crack. It was disconcerting to learn the term "fish scales" from my mother, but isn't that what mom is there for--to teach their sons drug terminology from the streets. Anyway, the next question that comes to mind is where did a teenager find access to a fifth of Jack Daniels and crack cocaine? The answer is painfully obvious: His older brother bought it, with his mother's consent of course.

Aside: A parenthetical departure; a digression.

Before I continue with this tale of drugs, liquor and the family bonds that unite them, there is something funny, or least I found it painfully funny, to point out. Right before my mother revealed the details about what happened to my younger cousin, she spent several minutes praising his older brother--the same older brother who purchased the crack and whiskey. She gushed over his many successes: He makes nearly $25.00 an hour; he owns a television that, to quote my mother, "Is bigger than a big screen ever could be. It must cost over $10,000"; he has fathered four children, all with the same woman; and he owns a house. Now, this isn't the first time she has praised my dubious relatives, she often states how embarrassed she is by how little I have done with my own life, but in this instance her timing couldn't be more ironic or comedic. Obviously, I am a failure by comparison; one can only hope that someday I will grow up and buy Issy, my eight year old little brother, crack and whiskey.

Anticlimactic Ending: You already know he lives

After drinking whiskey and smoking crack with his older brother, Stupid Fuck decided to do what addicts do best: He loitered throughout town. Not satisfied with simply being a drug-addled pedestrian, Stupid Fuck sought out the open road. Sadly, Stupid Fuck failed to realize that the middle of the street--the most congestive street in town, on the day before Thanksgiving--was the domain of motor vehicles, not high teenagers. He ended up playing chicken with a car doing forty miles per hour; not surprisingly, Stupid fuck lost, he lost real bad. He did survive and only suffered a mild concussion and possible broken jaw. What is it they say about small miracles, oh wait, I remember, they are reserved for stupid fucking morons.

I pointed out to mother that Stupid Fuck was in a good deal of trouble--as was his older brother. The hospital took a blood and urine sample because they were concerned about his racing heartbeat. (Apparently the stimulant, crack cocaine, trumps the depressant, a fifth of Jack Daniels) I am fairly certain that this information will be shared with the police who are investigating his man-on-car accident. Mother was quick to point out that Stupid Fuck would never "sell out" his brother. Not to mention the fact that he has never been convicted (though charged several dozen times) of any crime. He wouldn't receive jail time.

It is good to know that my mother, Stupid Fuck's aunt, is concerned with his welfare. We wouldn't want him to learn that drinking, smoking crack and running towards moving vehicles is a bad idea.


Go to Hell

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

No Turkey for Bob

I am reading a British horror anthology, while clad only in my tighty whities, when the phone rings. It was my land line, which means it could only be a couple different people--my mother or Issy, both of whom I don't particularly like. However, I have a thing about ringing phones; I have to fucking answer them. The following is a transcript of that phone call and the subsequent conversations that occurred thereafter.

Cranberry hits the fan

Ring, Ring, Ring

Bob: Hello

Mom: You can have a piece of the pumpkin pie that is on the counter. Thanksgiving is off. Go to Frisch's with that bastard father of yours. She begins to sob and quietly lament her life. (Actually, she isn't being terribly quiet and I overhear mom state how miserable meeting my dad and having children made her.)

Bob: What happened?

Mom: I threw the newspaper at the mother fucker and he yelled at me. Can you believe him? He gets mad because I tossed the paper at his head and told him to shut the fuck up, the nerve of that man.

Bob: Yea...ummmm...yea...Dad was being totally unreasonable. I hate when he is like that--as if he deserves a modicum of courtesy and respect. So, can we still have Thanksgiving?

Mom: No, I will never cook for that mother fucker again. That old cocksucker can die.

Bob: Yea, we should lynch him, but that has nothing to do with cooking Thanksgiving dinner for me.

Mom: Go to Frisch's.

Bob: I am not going to eat Thanksgiving dinner at some restaurant.

Mom: You could stand to miss a meal or hundred. Thanksgiving is off. Click

Bob: No Thanksgiving for Bob.


Let the Gluttony Commence

Ten Minutes Later

Ring, Ring, Ring

Bob: Hello

Mom: I am going to cook, but don't expect us to eat together. I will give you a plate to take home with you.

Bob: Can I get several plates?

Mom: You are such a fat ass. Will you stay away if I give you leftover food for later?

Bob: Leftover? I was planning on eating it all at once. It will be an orgy of turkey and stuffing, resulting in an explosion of cranberry.

Mom: You will be dead in ten years. Pick up your food tomorrow at noon and don't come back. I can't stand any of you.

Bob: Works for me.


Next Time on Jerry Springer: Dead Relatives and Why Bob Killed Them

Five hours later

Ring, Ring, Ring

Bob: Hello

Dad: Your worthless cousin was in an accident. He was hit by a car. He will probably die. Your mother probably won't be back tonight. The little bastard was probably high and drunk like your aunt. (My mother's sister) Her family is pathetic.

Bob: Yea, that is really sad. What about Thanksgiving dinner?

Dad: I guess it is off.

Bob: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! He better die, or at the very least, be paralyzed for life.

Dad: We can only hope.


Go to hell

Friday, November 19, 2004

Hermeneutic of Suspicion

I don't really have anything profound or funny to say, but I do want to recommend a book. It is a very entertaining read and fairly informative, too. The author, Ann Coulter, is guilty of grandiloquence, but that is an excusable fault and one that is based less on her character and has more to do with graduating from Columbia.

The book is written with a specific agenda--Liberals are guilty of treason--so it might offend some of you, however; I guarantee it will make you think. I thoroughly enjoyed it, if only for the bountiful supply of clever insults to levy against my Communist friends. (I kid--the friends in question are Marxists) Here is a selected quote from Treason:

"They hate us? We hate them. Americans don't want to make Islamic fanatics love
us. We want to make them die. There's nothing like horrendous physical pain to
quell angry fanatics. So sorry they're angry--wait until they see American
anger. Japanese kamikaze pilots hated us once, too. A couple of well-aimed
nuclear weapons go their attention. Now they are gentle little lambs."


I want you read to this book because it presents an alternative historical narrative. (And it made me giggle) It may not be completely accurate, though most textbooks and historical records aren't either. The point is that one shouldn't accept something as truth simply because the media or academia says so--they tend to be biased just like you and me. Get all the facts, divorce them from the opinions, and go with what is left. (I was going to write "what is right" but that sounded too partisan) Or you could just ask me what to believe; I am the source of all knowledge and minister of moral clarity.


Go to Hell

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

It is only Blood Money

The plot thickens and continues to unfold like a bad novel written by Danielle Steele, edited by John Grisham and published in conjunction with Tom Clancy. The United Nations has no creditability whatsoever.

At best, it ignored the windfall of money that Saddam made off of the Oil for Food Program; at worst, it condoned and supported this financial treachery. Keep in mind that Saddam used this money to support the families of Palestinian suicide bombers. Also, these funds went towards the purchase of munitions from the French and Russians, which were later used to kill his own people and are currently being used, by the remnants of the Baath party, to kill American soldiers. Oh and let us not forget the several billion dollars Saddam and company pocketed for personal prosperity and to fund future weapon programs--those pesky WMDs keep coming up.

It is good to know that the U.N. serves the interests of totalitarian dictators, Jacques Chirac, Vladimir Putin, Communist China, terrorists and virtually everyone else but THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. It is little wonder that this organization failed to give its undivided support for the War in Iraq. It was too busy supporting Saddam in Iraq.

The United States has been going it "alone" long before this war began; we were just the last ones to realize it.


Go to Hell

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Fat Asses Rejoice

Here is to another blow struck in the name of congestive heart failure.

I am afraid that it might, and I stress might, be too much sandwich for the Bee Oh Bee.

Go to Hell


What Would Fat Albert Say

Bill Cosby is a man on a mission. I respect his position and recent ranting concerning black youth. He isn't being politically correct, he isn't bowing to pressure from within his community, instead; he is demanding that blacks take responsibility for themselves. It is unheard of today for any public figure to preach the virtue of self accountability.

I share many of his sentiments and reservations about the black community, however; due to my pink pigmentation, I am not allowed to say it without being labeled a racist. Do yourself a favor and read the transcript. Cosby isn't completely right, but he is a helluva lot closer to the truth than virtually every major civil rights leader and organization in the country.

Peter, thanks for sending the link and pointing out these Cosby nuggets of wisdom.

"The word bastard no longer is something that you can throw at someone and embarrass them."

"Four and a half hours of homework is necessary. Got to be 4 1/2hours, minimum."

"The word nigger is an accepted wonder. You're so hip with nigger, but you can't even spell it."


Preach on Bill Cosby, even if you don't care what I, a white person, think about you.


Go to Hell

Monday, November 15, 2004

They must be smoking Blue Grass

Anyone who calls 9-11 to complain about a smoking ban, hoax or not, should be shot in the head. Furthermore, anyone who calls the local police department or sheriff's office to complain about the issue should be shot in the ass.

Then again, this incident took place in Kentucky--the state that makes West Virginians feel smarrtt.

Go to Hell

Sunday, November 14, 2004

My Love Will Endure

I wanted to like Van Helsing. Actually, I wanted to fucking love it. I think Hugh Jackman is dreamy--in a heterosexual way. Kate Beckinsale is unbelievably beautiful--in an I want to hump her children's children's children way. I love monster movies and am even a bigger fan of versus films. This movie was destined for Bob to enjoy. The problem is I absolutely hated it.

I could blame it on Stephen Sommers; he is a talent less hack. But you see, I liked the Mummy films, they were good popcorn flicks and well worth $6.00 a pop.

I don't want to think it, more less write it, but maybe Hugh Jackman was the problem. Van Helsing wasn't a likable character, nor did he work as a dark anti-hero. And, I won't even mention the whole "I am a Werewolf" character arc. Kate Beckinsale sucked. Her accent was horrible and she brought the emotional impact of a dead possum to the character. All I could think was, "Please take your shirt off and spank me like I like it." Ok, I would have thought that regardless but she still sucked.

Richard Roxburgh, who played Dracula, was painful to watch. Dracula is supposed to be menacing, not horrifically funny. However, his performance was not the worst in the film, not by a long shot. Frankenstein was the biggest disappointment in the entire film. He acted like a monk with sexual identity issues, which doesn't work for the original Zombie without a cause. I could forgive the performances and directing, or lack there of, if the story made some sense and provide a minimal amount of enjoyment. It failed to do both.

The story sets up a sequel during the first ten minutes, it just never bothers to tell a story within the actual movie itself. This is typical of Sommer's work; he usually presents a series of loosely connected action sequences with no semblance of story to be found there in. Like I said earlier, I liked the Mummy films, so I am all for movies with no plot. All I require and really need from a film is to be entertained, be it in the form of bouncing breasts, pie sex, Freddy eviscerating Jason, or the whispered utterance of Rosebud. Van Helsing utterly failed to provide any entertainment value. I found it almost as objectionable as House of a Thousand Rob Zombies.

I am glad that I missed it at the theatre, but I am upset that I wasted $3.00 renting it. I want my money back and, more importantly, I want my two hours of time back--I still love you Hugh and want to carry your baby, in a man-crush sort of way.


Go to Hell

Saturday, November 13, 2004

Even the Blind Can See

I blame myself, really I do. I shouldn't have expected the DVD rental to work; Blockbuster has far more important things to do--like merging with Hollywood Video--then to worry about the condition of my rentals.

It isn't like the DVD in question was scarred with several FUCKING HUNDRED scratches. It usually isn't appropriate to use the word "scarred" in relation to a DVD, but this is rare exception. Since I couldn't watch the movie, I counted the number of visible scratches on Side A. I quit after one hundred and twenty-seven. A blind man couldn't miss the condition of this DVD; the damage would have been crystal clear, even in Helen Keller's eyes.

The movie did play, sort of. It was possible to watch three to four minute snippets of the film before the disc froze, which usually lasted for a couple minutes, and then it skipped twenty minutes ahead into the film.

Yet, I do want to believe that this movie had just been returned in this condition, that the fine Blockbuster employees didn't have a chance to discover its heinous condition. Of course, I can't buy into that theory since I watched the stupid bitch open up the case and look at the DVD before handing it to me. She did so to make sure it was the right movie, maybe it is asking too much for her to notice that the DVD consisted 10% of unmarred surface and 90% scratch.
I am just too demanding. In the future, I will just punch the bitch in the head and look for myself.

And to think, Blockbuster turned me down for a job on a half dozen occasions. That doesn't say much for me, but it speaks volumes about my people skills.

Go to Hell

Friday, November 12, 2004

Better Off Dead

Peace is now possible in the Middle East.


Go to Hell

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Like I said Before

If only this would have happened earlier, I could have escaped the rainbow powered wrath of the NAACP. Nonetheless, I am glad that Ron Artest is too busy to play basketball; his burgeoning rap career most definitely takes precedence over his day job which pays him a paltry several hundred thousand dollars a game. He makes more in two hours of "work" than most people will earn in five years. Here is to Biggie rising from the grave and putting a cap in Artest's ass, zombie style.


Go to Hell

Come On

I enjoy irreverent cartoons, the play between cartoon reality and real world vulgarity is fun to watch, however; I just learned that there is point where crude humor ends, and offensive pornography begins. Drawn Together illuminated me to this fact.

Tonight's episode centered on a sexually ambiguous character's struggle with self identity, and subsequent quest to rid his person of "faggotry." The content matter was offensive because it had been done so much better by the likes of Family Guy, South Park, Futurama and The Simpsons. Yet, I know that it is hard to be creative and it is much easier to copy, and mangle, the jokes of the successful shows that preceded it. Drawn Together did manage to do something that no other cartoon or television show had ever thought of doing: They had God, in all his animated glory, poking a semi-blurred, toon penis with his finger. Oh, I almost forgot, he sniffed the penis before poking it. Yea...that bothers me just a wee bit.

I can't imagine why this was allowed to air. Who in the fuck could think this was acceptable, even by Comedy Centrals standards. This is a new television low; Drawn Together has managed to surpass Cop Rock in terms of sheer vulgarity. I am afraid of what will come next, though I have a pretty good idea: Babies eating feces out of their decapitated mother's neck. It is a sure fire ratings winner.

Go to Hell


Tuesday, November 09, 2004

I am not even an OSU Fan

He received preferential treatment, big surprise, huh? I don't like Maurice Clarett. Maurice was a crybaby from the get-go, he demanded to be treated differently even in public. See, that is the problem, you can't act differently in public, or the NCAA will be knocking at your door. Do I think Tressel committed NCAA violations? I don't know but I wouldn't take Clarett's word for it, or frankly, trust anything that comes out of his mouth. The only two things consistent about this pampered child are his lies and inability take responsibility for his actions. OSU would have taken back, even after all the lies and accusations. Winning comes first, academic integrity is a distant second. Maurice didn't choose that option, instead of being a demi-god in Columbus for the rest of his life (i.e. Archie Griffin); he chose to challenge the most powerful professional sports organization in the world. He lost, go figure.

Now, he is crying that NFL General Managers don't want anything to do with him; he is audacious enough to blame OSU for that fact. Guess what Skippy? You, and only you, are to blame for the NFL using the labels pariah and problem-child. You seem to forget last years combine, remember when you showed up twenty-five pounds overweight with a body fat percentage rivaling Jack Blacks and refused to participate in most of the workouts. Could that be the reason why NFL management thinks you are a joke, at best a fourth round draft pick. I know it is hard going from a National Championship, being one of the top players in college football to being an overweight scrub who will see countless Mid Atlantic Conference players drafted in front of him. Life can be so unfair sometimes, of course a spoiled bitch like you has no appreciation of what you had, what you gave up and, yes, what still looms in the future.

If you manage to stay away from McDonalds and work your ass off, the NFL will still come a calling. You won't get a multi-million dollar signing bonus, but you will get a contract worth a few hundred thousand dollars. I know that it is hard for a poor boy from Ohio to live on several hundred thousand dollars, but you should be able to manage.

Of course, I hope that you further alienate the NFL by showing up overweight again, or demanding to be treated like a marquee player. If I had my way, you would live the rest of your life in a destitute state after both your legs mysteriously fell off.


Go to Hell

Guilty In Name Only

He is guilty and should be executed for his despicable crime. However, in America being guilty is not enough, the prosecution has to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. I know that he shouldn't be convicted; all of the evidence requires conjecture and the ability to connect A-C. What about step B?

I am certain that the trial will end in a hung jury, requiring another long and drawn out judiciary process. Odds are good that the prosecution will learn from their mistakes and load the jury with single mothers, insuring a unanimous victory. I truly doubt that they will come up with any new evidence or ever prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, Scott Peterson is guilty.

I don't mind that a travesty of justice is taking place, because, like I said earlier, he is guilty. Nonetheless, if a guilty man is convicted because of emotion and not fact, does that not bode ill for the innocent man facing a similar situation?

If I had my way, we would scrap the current jury system and replace it with professional jury pools, people who are educated in the law and paid to decide the fate of their fellow citizens, or we could just rely on those who currently fit that bill: Judges. I know that a substantial number of judges are crazy, but I will take delusional tyranny over twelve stupid tyrants any day of the week

Go to Hell

Monday, November 08, 2004

Stop Signs Just Get in the Way

We should strip him of the eight Olympic medals. There was a time when murder was the most heinous of crimes, but no longer: Driving under the Influence is the vilest crime any person can commit. Murder a nun, you can be rehabilitated; run a stop sign after drinking a few beers, you get the electric chair. It is good to see that our priorities are in order.

By the way, I don't condone drinking while intoxicated, nor do I condone driving while text messaging, driving while suffering from sleep deprivation or driving while receiving oral sex. Actually, I do condone the last one when it involves me and a girl, not a goat.

Anyway, I am all for the demonization of criminals, but we should stick with the forlorn reefer advocates and leave the drunkards alone.

For those of you who may one day hire or arrest me: I, Bob, have never participated in or been privy to any actual occurrences of driving while intoxicated. Furthermore, I never humped a girl’s leg while she was fast asleep.

Go to Hell

When bad careers go worse


It looks like someone had recent breast augmentation surgery.

Go to Hell


Saturday, November 06, 2004

A Koala Bear

Apparently, within thirty days of being raped, Kobe's alleged victim discussed what she would do with the award money she would undoubtedly receive in civil court. Keep in mind that criminal charges were still in their infancy, yet she had already figured out what to do with the money. Since the conversation was probably drug (marijuana) induced and the witness was, at best, unreliable, here is my recreation of what happened.


The Players

Sean Holloway--Friend of the accuser, alleged pot head, alleged college student and source of the "Koala" revelation

Accuser-- The girl who allegedly took in the pooper from Kobe against her will

Kobe--NBA Superstar and, soon to be, Most Hated Man in LA. Thirty-Five Win Season here we come.

Sean: Hey, what’s up? I am high and have a bad memory.

The Accuser: I am going to get my breasts enlarged with the settlement money. I will have a bright future in the music business.

Sean: What? Doesn't it hurt to talk about this, I mean, it only happened a month ago and you are already discussing spending the settlement money.

Accuser: It only hurt for the first few minutes; we should have used the lube like Kobe said. Otherwise, it was pretty good. My boyfriend was sure jealous after I told him. Anyway, I plan on getting my friend's tits done as well. I could always use top heavy backup dancers.

Sean: Are you saying he didn't rape you?

Accuser: No, of course he raped me. He didn't kiss me long enough post anal or give me his number. He took advantage of me, and made me cry. He deserves to be punished.

Sean: You are right; taking advantage of a money hungry bitch is the very definition of rape. Gloria Allred would be proud.

Accuser: Who is that? That name is familiar, did she teach Home Economics? Anyway, you know what else I am going to do with the money?

Sean: What? Learn how to read?

Accuser: No, no silly. My plan is to fulfill the lifetime wish of a friend: I am going to buy her a koala bear.

Sean: What the fuck?

Accuser: Yea, she always wanted a koala bear and I am going to buy her one. Is it expensive to ship from Austria? I thought about buying a kangaroo, but don't they eat aborigines?

Sean: This sure is some good shit because this can't really be happening.

Accuser: You wanna have sex? I haven't changed underwear in a couple days, though my boyfriend doesn't seem to mind.

Sean: Sex, lies and koala bears: God Love the American Judiciary.


Several Months Later Kobe Learns of this Conversation from his Attorney

Kobe: A fucking koala bear? This bitch is crazy; you know I don't fuck crazy bitches, just stupid ones. That is the last time I let Shaq pick out my flings. You heard that right, I said Shaq was the one who told me to screw the stupid bitch. It is entirely his fault. Or at least, I want you to leak that to the media. The fat bastard is going to pay. Where the fuck is my Cristal and Sprite?




Go to Hell

Friday, November 05, 2004

I Hope You Choke on your Abacus

Yeah and I know, I know...all of you who are reading this right now...probably aren't big boys and girls yet with big corporate paying fulltime jobs....That sucks for you! All my hard college work paid off (6 years and 1 QTR)....Im making mad CASH NOW and enjoying every minute of it!!

The preceding statement was taken from an actual AOL IM Buddy Info field. I happen to know this person, and on one glorious occasion, admired her naked breasts. They were nice, if a little too saggy for someone her age. (she was twenty-two) Now, the fact that I have seen her ample bosom up close (approximately 24 inches away, which isn't extremely close but it is close enough) is not relevant to this post, however; it does make me feel all warm inside, a feeling I can only describe as Smurf in Heat. Anyway, all I want to say to this former friend is:

Fuck you. You are working as an accountant. I wouldn't want your job for $100,000 a year. Ok, that is a lie. I would want your job for $100,000 a year, or even the $45,000 you currently make; I wouldn't want to perform fellatio to get said job, which you obviously did. It took you six years and one quarter to graduate from OSU with an undergraduate degree, do not be proud of that fact. (Sorry, Peter)

During that same period, I have managed to: graduate from Denison University; have sex with three different girls; commit perjury; become morbidly obese; watch several thousand hours of the Cartoon Network; earn an Auctioneer's License; develop physic powers; streak nude across a college quad; lick my own nipple; have my buttock finger probed; rack up $10,000 in debt (Students Loans Not Included); live in a dilapidated trailer; sleep over 14,600 hours; write a modern day retelling of the opera, Aida (set entirely in the inner city of Newark, Ohio); learn how to eat with my feet, and do other things, not approved by a podiatrist; alienate most of my friends; write a world reknowned blog; develop a cure for the most heinous of diseases; work at different jobs, for a total of eight weeks; download 21.4 gigabytes of material relating to self sexual understanding; and, lots of other important stuff.

Who is the bigger success, huh?




In retrospect, I should have kept quiet, but you are still a stupid slut.


Go to Hell

People are too stupid for words

I spent the last several hours reading through internet forums and chat logs. The topics included: Gay Marriage, Republicans, the dichotomy of good & evil, religion, and personal hygiene.

I learned the following ten things:

  1. Hitler was only considered evil because he lost. He did a lot of great things for Germany, except for his genocidal rampage on the Jews. Everyone makes mistakes.
  2. Saying "homosexuality is wrong" is considered bigoted. Saying "Christian values are wrong" is considered enlightened.
  3. Mother Teresa was a bitch.
  4. God is a "butt-humper" and Jesus had sex with John the Baptist
  5. Evil is purely subjective. Our perceptions color what is moral and immoral, when in reality everything is amoral.
  6. People like to use Aristotle and Plato to justify atheism.
  7. Lapsed Catholics are going to heaven; the Pope is going to hell.
  8. Homosexuality is neither passed through genes, or informed by environment, instead it is awarded by winning on the Japanese Game Show, Query the Queer?
  9. Condoms would prevent ninety percent of the Third World's problems; abortions would take care of the remaining ten percent.
  10. Baking soda and vaginal secretions are very dissimilar. However, they can both be used when brushing ones teeth.


Go to Hell

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Not Quite

In response to Josh's November 04, 2004 Post


Bush is not a fiscal conservative, nor has anyone ever called him one. But, I do support spending a substantial amount of our budget on the military, which Bush supports. Give me rockets, bombs, and bears, I will figure out my retirement on my own, thank you very much.

Then again, the Republican Party has a lot of trouble getting any budget passed, be it balanced or otherwise, because the Democrats don't want them to get credit, only the blame. And, I understand why that is: the Republicans did the same thing for decades; congressional politics is more about posturing than actual progress, it is the nature of the beast.

I disagree with your assertion that the Republican Party wishes to intrude on state rights. First of all, only a minority of the Republican congressman supported a constitutional amendment, and they did so only because the fear (a valid one) of the judiciary deciding the issue for the states. This vocal minority wished to circumvent the courts, who in turn are trying to circumvent the state legislatures. The President took it as a personal cause because he believes that the definition of marriage is non-negotiable and should not be decided by the courts—it also served to motivate millions of Christians to vote for GW, which Karl Rove was counting on. President Bush never seriously thought the amendment would garner any significant momentum; he supported it because he felt it was the only sure way to insure the definition of marriage and hoped that his stand would serve to unite millions of concerned Christians. It turned out to be a pretty smart gambit.

Tangent 1

Personally, I don’t have a problem with Gay Marriage but a super-majority of the population does, and I do know that who we get to marry is not a constitutional right; it is an issue that should be decided by the states. The definition isn’t going to change anytime soon, if ever, through the legislative process. The people have spoken and very loudly so, however; these same people, by in large, support civil unions. Democrats, as well as Republicans, would be wise to push for civil unions in state legislatures. It would be a much easier battle, and one supported by both parties constituency. If this doesn’t happen, and it becomes Gay Marriage or nothing then there will be a huge fight within and between the parties. It will become the new affirmative action, where millions of people openly despise it, while giving tens of millions a reason to bolster their closeted bigotry. I know that Gay Marriage will one day win out, how it gets there is the question and, ultimately, the crux of the problem.

Back on Topic

Tangential thoughts aside, I want to point out that Reagan changed the view of Republicans on international affairs. Before, it was largely a party of isolationists, we did not needlessly meddle. That was the job of Democrats, who pushed us into Vietnam, Korea and even the first two World Wars. I think the old Democratic Party was right; the Republican Party was wrong, or at least not strong enough in their international zeal. Today the opposite is true: Republicans are proactive when it comes to international threats, the Democrats are reactive, with many not wanting to do anything at all, save for talk. Ronald Reagan is the reason for this ideological switch within the GOP. And, why we have steadily grown in power over last 2 ½ decades. JFK would be conservative by your standards; he actively sought to prevent the spread of communism. He was not reactive by any means; he instigated the beginning of Vietnam. The United States was not provoked, not any meaningful way, but he understood that it was a key nation in the spread of communism. LBJ took this as a mandate for limited, politically motivated war and made a fool of our nation.

Tangent 2

I find it laughable that people say George W. Bush was the first President to ever invade a country without provocation (which is a lie, we were provoked plenty) when Kennedy and Johnson did the same thing, even going further than Bush by invading a country that had virtually no dealing with this nation whatsoever. We had no interest there other than to stop communism. I know it was the right idea, it was just woefully executed.

Semi-Lucid Conclusion

See, I went off on another tangent, alas--I need to learn to stay on subject, my 7th grade English teacher would be disappointed, among other reasons.

You are correct in believing the Republican Party has changed. It has been for the good of both the nation and the party. Bush doesn’t perfectly represent all Republicans, in fact he is considered too moderate by many, too conservative by some, and not nearly strong enough in fiscal matters. Nonetheless, his positions are well known within the party and without. He is a strong leader, who often has to lead by example and not through consensus. I like that in a President and a party, so should you.


Go to Hell

The Car, The Incline, and The Man Who Brought Them Together

One hour ago, I went out for Taco Bell. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I am particularly fat. On the way, I happened upon a poor soul who was jumping up and down in front of his car, which was planted in the middle of the right lane; thankfully (for his sake) I was feeling magnanimous and didn't run his stupid ass over. I pulled in front of his car and inquired what the problem was. Keep in mind, his car was parked in the middle of street with no caution lights or any discernable light source within 500 ft of his location. He explained that he ran out of gas and asked if I would push his car 1000ft (give or take way too fucking much) to the gas station.

I had three major reservations with his request:

  • First of all, I am morbidly obese and physically unable to push a car 10 ft, making the requisite 1000 foot distance all but impossible.
  • Secondly, the nearest gas station was located on a slight incline, as was much the distance required to get there. And, as we all know pushing a car up a hill, slight as it may appear, often results in: Oh Shit, Oh Shit. SPLAT... If you’re God, why do you have horns on your head and an engorged goat vagina where you face should be?
  • Finally, who in their right mind would run out of gas, in the first place? Then forget to use their emergency blinkers while stranded in the middle of the road. I had a strong inkling he wanted to rob, rape and pillage me.

I told him that pushing his car to the gas station was a bad idea; instead I would drive him there and fill up a container. I pushed his car 10 or so feet to the right and told him to turn on his emergency lights. As luck would have it, only one light worked. Since I don't routinely carry a gas container, I assumed the gas station would have one. You know what they say about assumptions; they require a non-retarded bitch to be true. The station attendant didn't have a container, nor did he have one to sell. I mentioned using a giant soda cup would work; the attendant shook his head and said he wouldn't allow it. Apparently my good deed was going to be more pushing than usual.

I drove to the next gas station, which happened to be part of a large retail store and purchased a container. Why did I purchase it? There is a very rationale reason why: The kid didn't have any money because he "left it at his apartment." The container only cost $3.50 or 3 1/2 Taco Supremes. It held one gallon and half, which cost $2.50 or 1 Chicken Quesadilla. After investing half of my potential Taco feast in a stupid kid and his inability to keep gas in his care, I drove him back to the car. The police were waiting, since this road was fairly well traveled, even at midnight, and it wouldn't do to have a car blocking a lane. I explained the situation to the officers, since the kid seemed to clam up at the sight of their uniforms and, for some inexplicable reason, could not speak. After he poured in the gas, I took my container and continued my lard induced journey. The kid did mutter, "God Bless You" or was it "God Damn It" when I pulled away.

The officers stuck around, though. They were still there, as was the kid, when I was coming home, fifteen minutes later.

The moral of the story: I am fat, oh and one should never stop to help a stranded driver. Odds are that they deserve it. I can only hope he was busted for drug possession.


Go to Hell

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

The more things change

The President won, the young vote failed, and I couldn't be happier. Vote or die, huh? There is some hope left for this country when MTV fails to significantly influence the election. Of course, Evangelical Christians did play a major part, which drives many of you crazy. Right or wrong--religious folk still have a huge role to play in America and are an incredibly formidable force when mobilized. The same can't be said about college educated twenty-some things. Anyway...

The word magnanimous was used several times last night by several different television news sources. The one universal constant was how it was used: Bush should be magnanimous in his apparent victory. Personally, I would have released a statement saying, "Go to hell, and suck my inflamed donkey scrotum. I win." In retrospect, I am glad the President opted to accept his victory in a "magnanimous" manner. Then again, it is job of the bloggers (not me, of course) to act like asswipes--exit polls indeed.



Network Lies?

I was very surprised by the election coverage last night. It was actually fairly good, bloggers aside, and not openly biased, with one major exception. I watched the CBS coverage for a grand total of 5 minutes, during which time Rather made a half dozen offhanded remarks about the Bush campaign, highlighted by a statement that went something like this: The road is filled with carcasses left in the wake of those who disagreed with Karl Rove. That isn't an exact quote, but it is close. Rather meant it as a compliment. Dan, it is time to go.

Surprisingly, the coverage I enjoyed the most was CNN's. They insisted on calling the race entirely different from NBC, MSNBC, and Fox News. Their take at 4am, at least in terms of projected electoral votes, was so dissimilar to that of the other networks that it looked like they were watching an entirely different election. In their defense, they had Bush most likely winning and were extremely conservative in awarding states--to Bush. Regardless, I actually found Blitzer to be a good host (mind you, it was 4am at the time) and watching Larry King offering his insights on the Electoral College was priceless. Larry isn't very smart, is he?



Do Not Pass Go

I wouldn't want to be Democrat, especially not today. Historically speaking, this is one of the most lopsided National elections ever. Republicans significantly strengthened their hold on the House and Senate. Oh, and if you skipped the first few paragraphs and just woke up from a Sunday nap: President Bush won reelection in a convincing manner. He managed a majority of the popular vote, not a plurality-- which was the norm in recent Presidential elections. Would I call this an absolute victory? No, nor would I use the phrase "mandate of the people." It is a mandate of the majority and should be treated as such. Never forget those who elected you, but more importantly, do not completely disenfranchise those who didn't.

Should the Ass stop wagging his tail? No, not completely, but the bucktooth bastard does need an extreme makeover. Religious white folk (The South/Evangelicals) still play a major role in our country, and with the major gains Bush made with the Latinos, you are in danger of losing the fastest growing minority group. Hispanics tend to be similar to Southern Christians; both are culturally conservative and religiously devout.

You can't be a party of domestic issues divorced from moral realities. You dominated American Politics for decades, in terms of the Congress, because you prided yourself as a party of the common people--you let the Republicans (and, thankfully so) make that their mantra.

Democrats will continue to finish second in a two horse race, as long as they pride themselves on being the party of Organized Labor, Teacher Unions, Intellectuals, and Social Liberals.

? Organized Labor is almost universally corrupt, which most people know and with the departure of millions of manufacturing jobs it has a fraction of its power from its height, thirty years ago--it was once able to put the fix in for Presidential elections, i.e. Kennedy in Cleveland 1960, but not anymore.

? Teacher Unions are nearly as a corrupt as their organized labor brethren, and they stand in the way of vouchers because they call for accountability on the part of educators. The problem is millions of folk without education degrees support the idea of vouchers, or at the very least, want their educators to be held accountable.

? Intellectuals are good for debate, bad for politics. The University may be a bastion of liberal ideology but its influence is limited to the two coasts and major metropolitan areas, and even there, it is still all talk, no action.

? Personally, I am all for the Democrat Parties downward spiral into the far left, however; building a political platform on such loony and vitriol values is a no-win proposition in 90% of the country, not counting San Francisco.

I am not going to offer any solutions, because I want the bad guys to wallow in defeat as long as possible--make masochists out of the whole lot of them.

Nonetheless, there is some joy to be found in Mudville. Barack Obama is the future of your party, or at least he should be, and has almost unlimited political potential. He is well spoken, he is extremely charismatic, and black with an asterisk to boot (although he does speak white). I have no doubt he will litter the roads with carcasses of many a Republican opponent to come.

Tom Daschle lost, which is a major boon for the Democrats. He was combative, non-effective and politically out of touch. The Crats (not the Krauts) can do better than him. Now, if you would just axe Pelosi the Penis Slayer, all would be right in your Congressional party leadership.



My Final Thought

I am absolutely, irrefutably, undeniably, mother-hog licking ecstatic about last nights result. I want to leave you with this thought:


Go to hell, and suck my inflamed donkey scrotum. I win.

If Fox News Says So



Two-Term President

Of course, Kerry could always pick up 80% of the provisional ballots in Ohio. I wouldn't hold your breath, though.


Go to Hell

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Spare the rod, Spoil the child



I know from experience that children need beaten to keep them in line. I don't support child abuse, at least not as a regular practice. But it does a kid good to have their bottom smacked with a glass filled bag. I like to call it character building, and it is a nice way to relieve stress.


Go to Hell

Something seems different.



The new and improved template is up and running. I am happy with the design--thanks Janelle.

There are some minor issues with firefox but one can still view all blog entries with the browser. If you want to see all the changes, please use IE, Netscape or Opera.


Go to Hell

Monday, November 01, 2004

We won't know who wins tomorrow's election for several days, if not weeks. My position is well known--I am avid supporter of George W. Bush. He is a better man than John Kerry, however; I will admit that John Kerry is a better politician. Many will argue that personal morality means nothing in the political arena; also, this same amoral group will argue the benefits of being ruled by robotic overlords who exist only to anally probe the population with plastic sporks. Whatever floats your boat or results in internal hemorrhaging.

Bush will not now, or ever, engender widespread support in Western Europe. John Kerry will be much more popular with the French, German, English and other socialist states. Will this translate into more support (Great Britain aside) in the War on Terror? No, it won't. The French and Germans have their own agenda in the War on Terror--like us, they will serve their own interests. I would argue, and quite successfully so, that when the United States is self-serving the entire world usually benefits; we will see if the same can be said for France, Germany and the like.

Why does this even matter? It really doesn't, at least not in terms of our security and prosperity. But, foreign relations with Western Europe (and perhaps Russia) is the only clear area John Kerry trumps President Bush. Maybe I shouldn't dismiss it and if the public opinion of European Union Member States means a lot to you--vote for Kerry. Otherwise be good little boys and girls and vote for Bush. Or, simply don't vote at all (also known as a Vote for Nader).

Remember a vote for Kerry-Edwards is a vote for sexual molestation by the mechanical minions of Nit Nac, the Almighty Overlord of Robotic America.


Go to Hell
Dad, it is good to know that you have a sense of humor, albeit at my expense.



Go to Hell

Sunday, October 31, 2004

The Halloween party was a blast and I got to show my ass, literally. I did throw up this morning, which is bad, but the vomit only contained blood and bile --no gross chunky bits to clean up. Below are several pictures of me towards the end of the night, pay particular attention to the attractive woman (Anita) using a riding crop on my ass. Dreams do come true. They really, really do.


Next time on Maury: Fat Children and the Goth's who worship them.

Mein Kampf

You like me, you really do.

Crop on Ass Action



Oh, and thank you Chase for sharing with the world the hilarity that is Baby Bob Gone Wild.



Go to Hell

Saturday, October 30, 2004

I am going to a Halloween party. My costume is meant as a commentary on the roles of race and gender in the upcoming Presidential election. What costume can do such an important subject justice? Well, the answer is my costume: a giant baby.


Go to Hell

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Silver Bullet is an underrated horror classic. Remember when Corey Haim wasn't a burnout, or when Gary Busey was a crazy lunatic--ok, the last one has always been the case. Anyway, this is a fantastic film adaptation of a Stephen King short story.

I am not a big fan of King's, or at least not his written work. I can't stand his prose but I fully admit that he has a rare genius: he creates vivid stories that serve to both scare and delight (writes like shit, though). I know this from watching the various films based on his work, and I have suffered through a couple of his novels, one novella and several short stories.

Definitely check out the movies based on his work, and if you have stomach for it, read his novels, novellas and short stories. Though, make sure to stay away from Misery and Riding the Bullet; both are horrendous reads and the cause of many a mediocre nightmare.


Go to Hell
I don't like John Kerry the candidate. It isn't because I don't like his political persuasion, or because of the heinous actions he committed thirty years ago (he lied to get on TV, albeit at the expense of his fellow soldiers. Today, people eat cow shit to garner fame--both acts are regrettable). No, I dislike the candidate because he has no principled positions, none whatsoever.

My problem with John Kerry is that I don't know who the man is because he only presents the calculated politician. Bill Clinton was very similar, except he had incredible charisma to bolster his lack of principles and values. Nonetheless, they are from the same school of thought: where the instructors preach idealism in the form of relativism; a place where the students care less about fact than perception; it is the University of Intelligent Debate divorced from wisdom based response. John Kerry the politician will be a disastrous President, because he will cause the minimal amount of waves, not comprehending we are drowning the whole time.

He spent nearly two decades in Congress without distinguishing himself in any wayIn fact, the only reason why anyone knewof John Kerry (pre-2004) is because his name was dropped as a possible Presidential candidate in 2000 and 1992, oh and he admitted to killing innocent Vietanmese civilians. He is nearly indistinguishable from several hundred of his colleagues, except that his wife is worth several hundred million dollars and he claimed to participate in war crimes. I can definitely see why he is your candidate

I don't like the liberal ideology, as it causes far more harm than good. But, I do acknowledge much of the platform is meant with the best of intentions. For those of you who believe in this train of thought, I hope John Kerry doesn't win, for your sakes. Because you will find that as President he will be as effective as Bill Clinton, probably even less so. Clinton had his remarkable chraisma to cloud ones mind when, and if, you realized he didn't accomplish a thing in eight years of office, minus the blowjob. Slick Willy was an acceptable loss, at least for me, because he provided several years of material for the late night talk show hosts. However, we can't afford to wear rose colored glasses any longer; the Muslim extremists want to blow up our civilization issue needs our undivided attention.

Then again, who am I to stop you from electing a shitty leader. Let's examine a small sampling of what he will (not) accomplish as President.

Gay rights? John Kerry isn't going to be your champion, in fact his position is nigh indistinguishable from President Bush; he supports the polls which don't support Gay Marriage. At best you can hope for don't ask, don't tell type policies, which have sure worked out, thus far.

Women's Rights? Heinz will be seen until she does something disastrous, a la Hilary and universal healthcare, then she won't be heard from again. She will empower militant feminists everywhere and we all know how important they are to the well being of this country. Your god-given right to abort your fetuses will remain intact, but isn't going anywhere as is. Congress will never approve a Supreme Court nominee who will tip the scales concerning abortion--it won't happen.

The economy? Well, we can only hope that another gigantic stock bubble arises that converts millions of average folk into stock traders--until it bursts and little Johnny is left without college money. Hopefully, we can also count on a few ethically-retarded CEO's to cook the books causing the economy to entertain short-term gains and court long-term disaster. And, the rising taxes will definitely bolster the economy--people are always more likely to invest money in marketplace when the government raises taxes. I know it is a non-sequitur but what does logic have to do with our financial future.

Healthcare? Universal healthcare will never happen in this country; there is no way to pay for it. The plan he presents only pays for 20% of the tab, which the wealthy will pick up, guess where the other 80% will come from? Answer: The not so wealthy who can't afford healthcare as it is.

The war on terror? The French and Germans will definitely turn the tide of the war. Al Queda is shaking on their camels at the thought of having to bribe Chirac. Iraq? My previous point applies here as well. Kerry's plan to pull troops out as soon as possible is wonderfully unclear, ASAP must mean five to seven years in Kerry speak. We are going to be there for the long haul--regardless of who you choose as President. However, I am pretty sure the insurgents are quaking in their boots at the thought of the French becoming involved. I mean look at how they put Saddam in his place by funneling him billions of dollars through the Oil for Food program. Yea, that sure stopped his genocidal regime.


Conclusion: Vote for John Kerry or suffer four more years of decisive and moral leadership. We want our leaders to only serve a political agenda, to follow the whims of the majority and rarely, if ever, lead.




Go to Hell

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

My erudite peers never cease to amaze simple minded me. They deconstruct the lingustic foibles of a man who is a two-fold Ivy League graduate--a feat that is only surpassed by his ability to fly fighter jets. He is definitely the village idiot. I am such a dullard for ever thinking otherwise.

Of course, his occasional lapse into the mispronounceable[1] could easily be attributed to the heterogeneous nation we live in. God damn the vernacular diversity of our country, why can't we all speak in accordance with the wishes of Mary Newton Bruder, God Rest Her Anal Retentive Soul.

I know that the millions of doctors, lawyers, programmers, teachers, accountants, writers, politicians, and, yes, even retail managers who fail to live up to standards set forth by the disciples of Bruder (which must include all the cerebral inclined folk who commented on my previous post) are simple minded dullards--I am just glad for all the company.

I just hope that you, the intellectual elite and inheritors of Robert's Rules of Order, apply your just and unbiased criticism to all peoples; we can all learn so much from your perfect purveyance of the English language.

Go to Hell

P.S. I wanted to write about sexual harassment but I got stuck after opening the post with, “The Whore deserves to suck on horse scrotum."



Tuesday, October 26, 2004

This isn't conclusive evidence but it does provide support for my assertion: The President isn't stupid.


Go to Hell

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Today I fired someone. I didn't enjoy the experience. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with firing an employee for bad work performance, but I am bothered when a forty-something adult male begins blubbering like a baby. At least he waited till the end of the auction to break down.

My help continues to amaze me, and the alien overlords, with their ineptitude. In over thirty auctions we haven't been able to balance the books once. Usually, we are under thirty or forty dollars, but today we mysteriously came ahead eighty or so bucks. Dad was pleased with the result and ignored my very apt point: Our cashier continues to improperly tally the sale total, which is costing us (meaning you) money. Habitual mistakes, whether "good" or bad" in nature, signify a serious problem. Of course, he ignored me and when I tried to stress my point, he called Bob an ass. I should fire everyone, including myself.


However, the real highlight of today wasn't the blubbering ex-employee or math challenged cashier; I had the pleasure of dealing with the biggest cunts, ever. Now, I know what you are saying, "Biggest cunts, ever? Surely, you are exaggerating about the size of their vaginal cavities." Well, I am not. This mother and daughter duo are know as Canyon Grande and Canyon Almost As Grande As Fat-Ass Mother's.

Orifice sizes aside, my real problem with the girls were their rude behavior towards father and me.

Incident number one appeared very innocuous in nature. I was speaking with an elderly couple about the results of their auction the week before. Since their combined ages were nearing 190 and an auction was taking place while we were talking, I found it necessary to speak very loudly. Throughout the conversation I heard a shhhhh sound emanating from directly behind us. By the time I finished speaking with the couple the shhhh was drowning out my voice and the auctioneer's. I turned around to see the origin of the shrill shhhhh; low and behold, I spied the two cavernous sluts.

Incidents two and three dealt with the same problem: Dad's inability to write upcoming instead of next. He chose not to sell a Longaberger basket in the auction because there were several consigned already and he didn't want to overload the sale with bored housewife fodder. Now, in the previous auction he did have the basket in question on a shelf marked "Next Auction." He apologized for his apparent mistake but the gaping holes didn't take kindly to his rationale and stomped off--I believe they went to sacrifice a cow. Shortly thereafter, I attempted to soothe the savage beasts, but it was to no avail. In unison--as if they shared the same malignant tumor-- they bellowed, "It is false advertising. It is false advertising. You can't do this. Blah, blah, blah, we voted for Nader, blah, blah." I looked at them for a few moments, shook my head and promptly walked away.

I related the experience to one of my employees who responded, "They are fucking cunts. They think they are better than us. Fucking cunts." I smiled and applauded his astute observation.
It is good to know that I have one good employee, at least.




Go to Hell

Saturday, October 23, 2004

The Grudge v. Bob

Results: I spent ten hours curled up in a ball with the lights on, mind you that seven of those hours were during the day.

The Grudge - 1

Bob - Scared Shitless



Go to Hell

Friday, October 22, 2004

Linking Logs is Fun


The only place where free speech isn't encouraged: The University.


I was going to say "Be careful or you will shoot your eye out." but that seems a little insensitive. Instead, here is to the Boston Police Force and their resolute desire to shoot innocent bystanders in the eye. I imagine it is hoping too much for the officer, who seems to have difficulty differentiating between the head and body, to be severely disciplined and/or fired.


Confucius say, "The superior man likes big boobies and wings, in that order."



Go to Hell









Thursday, October 21, 2004

This seems terribly appropriate:


Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer



The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The restClung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that—We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.





Go to Hell

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

I want to write a short story. Actually, I want to write several dozen short stories. But, I will have to start with just one. I have mulled over one idea for nearly two years but decided it wouldn't play out so well; it seems a direct to trash bin release had a similar concept. And, writing a story about serial killers (in particular one who cuts up young college coeds) hits a little close to home, you know.

Therefore, I am going in a totally new direction, and I think it will be much easier. It involves poker, the devil, lost souls, redemption, and Helen Keller. I have always been fascinated with the morality tales dealing with the devil. How one always loses (unless it is a fiddle contest, or involving the namesake of a dictionary) when given their greatest desires. Anyway, it is my plan to have a viewable draft finished by Halloween.

I know you are asking yourselves: What does this mean to me? And, why do fuck do I care?
The answer is simple: You all are my bitch, bitches.

The time I usually devote to writing on my blog will instead be used on the story. I will probably post a link or two, maybe even a hate filled racist rant, however; it is my intention to spend the majority of my time on the computer looking up porn, then writing my story.


Wish me luck,

Go to Hell