Scary Monsters

Came home and did a quick Facebook check before going to bed. My friend posted a link with the caption "Hilarious" and it had a bunch of Likes so I clicked on it. Hilarious? No. Something that pissed me off enough to come here and bitch about it? Oh, fuck yes.

This link is a compilation of people who Tweeted about how they didn't get what they wanted for Christmas. Kids, I'm guessing, who are mad that they didn't get an iPhone, iPad, or car. That's right - a car. Or they're mad they got a Kindle Fire instead of something else. And they hate their parents for ruining their Christmases. And they have no shame going online to admit it. The whole thing baffles me.

So I need to ask the people having these children a really important question: What the FUCK are you doing?

At what point did you decide you could, or should, raise a child? If you were just going to raise a pathetic fucking sack of cum, why didn't you pull out and collect it in a jar? Better yet, why didn't you wear a fucking condom and just keep it when you were done? You could have spent your life giving it anything or nothing and it would never complain. You could have saved everyone the misfortune of coming across it in public and having to be horrified by its awful attitude. With a little bit of luck, the GOP wouldn't one day give it the right to vote so we wouldn't need to worry about its pathetic, greedy, self involved opinion. That right there is a Holy Trinity of why abortion should always remain legal - just incase you fuck again.

And don't you tell me not to call your kid a sack of cum, because if your kid goes by @ZachBell20 on Twitter, he just called you a cunt for not getting him an iPhone. I don't know who leads a more useless existence - you, who are raising the equivalent of Athlete's Foot, or the Athlete's Foot who was lucky enough to receive the education he needed to learn to spell, type, and use the computer to show off his fucking education.


As an outsider to Christmas, I have found joy in the general feeling of happiness amongst people I come across during this time of year. But currently, people are on such a quest to buy shit their kids are just going to be complaining about, and they're pepper spraying anyone who gets in their way. Even the Christmas ads leave me with a bad taste, and not just because they start in September. This year Best Buy had a campaign whose theme was to One Up Santa. I'm Jewish, and it still pissed me off. Santa - benevolent, generous guy whose purpose is to give. Leave it to a fucking corporation to fuck with the concept of Giving.

The upside to this whole thing? The glimmer of hope I find coming out of the horrific little shits being raised by horrific cunts? I wasn't alone in my anger.

Just to make sure the link wasn't made up, I did a Twitter search on some of the more awful complainers and found that others had been there before me. And they made an evening of telling each of the spoiled brats what they thought of them.

Leon Bernard aka Sk8boardLee26, who Tweeted that Christmas sucked because all he got was a Camero and iPad, has responded with a video on YouTube pleading his case. It takes awhile, but he eventually explains that regardless of the gifts he received, his Christmas sucked because he's active duty and hasn't been with his family for Christmas in three years. I'll buy that. Of course, if his original intent was to share how sad Christmas was because he missed his family, there are more informative sentences. Like - I'd give all my Christmas presents away in exchange for family time.

Veronica Moriarty aka VBellz_Moriarty, who "cried for like 2 hours straight" because she didn't get a car has removed her Twitter account. I can only imagine what invisible people on a computer screen said that made her run off and hide.

And my favorite flap of skin, the aforementioned Zachary Bell aka ZachBell20, who hates his cunt of a father who had eight months to get him the iPhone, but didn't produce it by this Christmas - his Twitter account is down too... But it wasn't last night. I wish I'd copied the remark because it was pretty fucking brilliant, and I'm now unable to credit its owner: "The only thing I ever got from my Dad was molested when I was 10. But at least I got an iPhone!"

Beat on the Brat

Be yourself is about the worst advice you can give to some people.

[ ;) ]

May you and yours enjoy a wonderful [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual] full of Peace, Love, & Understanding. May those of you not celebrating anything in particular during Winter Solstice experience a tranquility you might not normally find during the rest of the year. Unless you happen to not follow the Gregorian Calendar in which case I don't know what to tell you.

May the well wishes of strangers celebrating [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual] instead of [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual] not piss you off ruining what should be an otherwise pleasant season, and if the well wishes do offend, may you realize that, in all likelihood, no harm was meant. Unless the well wishes for [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual] come from someone who expects you to celebrate [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual] just like they do because you're in America, in which case I wish you the willpower to not do anything stupid. Unless your act of stupidity results in no bodily harm, but a really funny story that your family will tell every [insert appropriate holiday, festival, or ritual.]

The Piano Has Been Drinking

Stonehenge Winter Solstice

Piece. Peace.

Hoping you get some and hoping it's good.

Closer

There never was a good war or bad peace.

Go Nebraska.

Do you know what happens when you teach a child how to tie his shoe? He eventually learns how to tie his shoe. Know what happens when he hears you curse? He learns to curse. Get upset with him all you like, but he learned if from you. Just like the commercial says.

Know what happens when the media makes victims of sexual harassment and abuse look like the bad guys? Men like Herman Cain get to run for president, and his fans get to show their brainwashed ignorance by booing anyone who questions his character.

...And college students will take to the streets screaming and crying to support the man who protected a pedophile. For the love of college football.

Bob Ford puts it all into perspective in this article explaining why Beaver Stadium should be empty this weekend.

"There should be no cheering on Saturday. There should be silence in the enormous concrete and steel edifice built to deify a program that has now been revealed as a false god. Tell the people not to come. Tell them there is nothing here to glorify. Encourage them to spend the fall afternoon with their children."

The only thing I wish he would have added is FUCK YOU, Penn State. Fuck you and fuck the fucking idiots out in the fucking street crying over a fucking guy who thought college fucking football was more important the the fucking well being of eight fucking kids. Fuck you for threatening Assistant Coach Mike McQueary for stepping forward to tell your beloved Coach Joe Fucking Paterno that he saw Assistant Fucking Coach Jerry Fucking Sandusky abusing a child in the fucking shower. You wanna bitch at him for not stopping it? Yeah, I'll back you up. Wanna call him a cunt for taking it to Paterno instead of calling the police? Fuck Yeah. But for letting the cat out of the bag? Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you fucks? One day I hope you all look back at footage of yourselves crying your fucking faces off on fucking TV for your fucking school football team only to realize you can spend the rest of your lives Shawshanking through a tunnel of shit longer than four fucking football fields, and there will still never be any fucking redemption for the lot of you. Fuck off and Fuck you.

Get ready to start paying out to your victims. Just ask the National Restaurant Association and Princess Herman Cain, less useful than Athlete's Foot, too disrespectful of women to be allowed out of his house, and flypaper to ignorance. A holy trinity of why shoving my dick in his eye would be more beneficial to this country than his presidency.

Start standing up for victims. My Superiority Complex is getting out of hand.

Karma Police

You are the result of four billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

Have You No Soul?

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Really, Mike Huckabee? Really? You believe the words Honey, Sweetie, & Darling are examples of Sexual Harassment? Because it seems to me that if you teach your ignorant followers to believe they are,  you may one day be able to pass a law that redefines the terms of Sexual Harassment thereby making it easier or even legal to Sexually Harass women. Or maybe you're just fucking stupid. Either way, shame on you.

When someone tells you you can keep your job as long as you blow him and then shoves his hand down your pants, you can talk to us about your opinions on Sexual Harassment. Until then, suck my dick, you Fat Fuck. By the way. You're getting fat.

Godless

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

What's a Little Sexual Harassment?

[Roughly 36 hours after posting the following rant written in pure, Horrified Disgust, only one person has asked me where I got the information about the NRA's large, LARGE settlement. Perhaps the Daily Show has fewer viewers than I thought.


I've searched the web to fact check this tidbit beyond What Jon Stewart Said and have found nothing. Either the NRA shelled out $482 Million big ones to make a problem go away and keep its mouth shut and that's why I'm not finding any other sources for this figure, or Jon made it up. 


When all is said and done, I trust Stewart and his staff more than The Media. If they released their own figure, I'd probably wait for Jon Stewart & the Daily Show writers to tell me if it was true or not. That's right. I trust Comedy Central's accuracy more than The Media's...]




I was innocently reading the Seattle Times this morning and as I skipped over the article about Michael Jackson's doctor, my eye caught the story about Penn State's sex scandal which involves former assistant football coach Jerry Sandusky and the eight boys he sexually abused over 15 years.

Disgusting. I read on.

"Survey: Sexual Harassment Rampant in Grades 7-12." It seems that during the 2010-11 school year 48% of these kids received some form of sexual harassment either in person or through some sort of electronic media - a text, an email, Facebook, etc. from their fellow schoolmates. Not accounting for advanced kids who've skipped a grade, we're talking about someone as young as 11 years old. Where are they learning this kind of behavior from, I wonder?

It just gets more awful. I read on.

I hit two stories side by side. The one on the left, "Neighbors Rally Around Cain" sits by its twin, "Cain's Latest Accuser Brings Famed Attorney."

The former describes the white stuccoed, towering palm treed, topiaried and gated golf course community Herman Cain lives in, but makes sure we all know that his brick house is more modest within these surroundings with lots of his grandkids' toys on the lawn. If you knock on his door, he himself may answer it while holding a broom! Ain't that a humble fuckin' picture? It goes on to describe how the poor pizza man is trying to clear up these "Allegations" of sexual harassment, but luckily he has the support of his neighbors.

Meanwhile, the latter article talks of how Cain's "Alleged" sex scandal is surely slipping into the realm of Sensationalism because victim Sharon Bialek's attorney is famed Gloria Allred - the attorney contacted by some of Tiger Wood's mistresses and the same attorney who represented Nicole Brown's Family during OJ's murder trial.

Let's get something straight before my brain explodes because I have a few things to say to the Seattle Times, Jimmy Smith, and Brittany Glynn.

The National Restaurant Association paid $482 Million to settle harassment claims against Cain. Period. He can pretend he didn't do it all he wants. He still did it. That's why there was a settlement. A large fucking settlement.

So, Seattle Times, go ahead and pretend sexual abuse and harassment bother you but then make Herman Cain's victim of sexual harassment look like her case is so sensational it couldn't possibly be true. Write your articles about Penn State's President not properly handling the current sex scandal which involves the rape of a 10 year old boy. Pretend you're outraged by the news that 11 year old school children are sexually harassing each other. But don't paint a GOP presidential candidate as anything other than the monster he is. How could he be? There are toys on his lawn. Maybe if the media start calling out these bastards, school children will start learning that it's not acceptable behavior.

And the same goes for you, Idiot Community Who Supports him. I'm looking at you, Jimmy Smith. "[Your] main issue is the economy and the jobs." Who cares if the the leader of the free world uses his power to force your mother, sister, or daughter to blow him? Fuck you, you unemployed construction worker. I'm sure McDonald's is hiring. That's how much I give a fuck about your troubles right now.

Clinton was impeached for lying about a hummer from a willing Monica Lewinsky but leave poor Cain alone. All he did was repeatedly hold power over women with uninvited sexual advances.

And you, Brittany Glynn. You fucktarded cunt. Women like you are one of the biggest tragedies in our country.

"We kind of think it's funny," said Brittany Glynn, a novelist who lives a few doors from Cain in an Italianate spread with two lion statues flanking the front door. "We kind of think, if this is as good as they've got, he's doing pretty good. Everyone in the neighborhood loves them and are big supporters."

You know what I think would be funny? You or someone you love being a victim of sexual harassment and then having some asshat like yourself not just support the harasser, but claim that the situation is funny. I think that would be a laugh riot, you bloated sac of cum.  Have someone read you this post about women's rights, and then try to justify having a vagina. Are you really fucking stupid or are you really fucking stupid? Don't make me go out to that gated community in Atlanta and Egg a Bitch.

Missed Me

You are the result of four billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

Animal Porn

A conversation I recently had with a total idiot led me to the realization that although I stand behind the Theory of Evolution 100%, I couldn't back it up in my own words. "I learned it in school," just isn't a strong argument when the Religious Reich are so desperate to have "Intelligent Design" taught alongside or instead of Science. What a fucking shame.

So I went to the library and took out Richard Dawkins' The Greatest Show on Earth and Jerry Coyne's Why Evolution is True. It's all there, folks. Facts. We are evolved creatures, despite the Imbeciles and Naysayers out there. "You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success. Fucking act like it."  The amount of evidence to prove it is staggering and fascinating, and I highly recommend adding both books to your reading list.


So. Being a creature who likes arming herself with Facts and The Truth for the staggering amount of Imbeciles and Naysayers who care for neither Facts nor The Truth, the next subject I decided to master was the natural occurrence of Homosexuality in animals. I read that,  "Homosexuality is present in over 450 species. Homophobia is present in only one. Which one seems unnatural now?" Brilliant. Now let me get my Learnin' On so I can start repeating it to every homophobic douchebag who finds it somehow unholy for all people to have the same rights that my husband and I share.

Off to the library for Bruce Bagemihl's Biological Exuberance, a book about Animal Homosexuality which discusses scientific documentation of  animals engaging in not just homosexual behavior, but non-reproductive homosexual behavior like lifelong bonding and co-parenting. Yay Me for being so eager for knowledge.

Well, thanks to the book's first chapter, I can confirm that MANY homosexual pairs of animals raise families and in many cases exceed their heterosexual counterparts in the extent of parenting skills. Unfortunately, that same chapter has provided me with more information about animal foreplay in both hetero and homosexual animal relationships than I ever expected to find out, and I'm feeling pretty dirty. And not in a good way. I was prepared for words like Nuzzling and Mounting, but Diddling? There is, perhaps, knowledge I don't need to know.

I'm putting you aside, Biological Exuberance. The One Wattled Cassowary bird on your cover can stare me down all it likes.

Work It

As for science vs. religion, 

I'm issuing a restraining order. 

Religion must stay 500 yards from science at all times.

Occupy Wall Street

When I see photos of Teabagger's holding poorly spelled, racist, bigoted signs conveying really ignorant concepts, I shudder but giggle. Way to stand up against Muslin, idiots.

I hear what they are saying, but I still think they are full of shit. Why? Because the leaders who feed them the drivel they regurgitate are full of shit.

Corporation CEOs are not your friends, Dummies. They are clever, clever thieves. While Congress is in their back pocket doing their dirty work by running into the bank and waving their guns, they sit at home waiting for the loot to be delivered to them. For some reason, you sign-holding idiots don't realize it's YOUR MONEY that was just stolen. You've got one hand holding up a stupid sign and the other one holding the bank door open so Cantor and Bachmann can make their getaways.


Unfortunately, I feel a heavy shoe on the other foot, at the moment. The theatrics of some at the Occupy Wall Street Movement are, at times, embarrassing, and I wince when I consider how they not only detract from the OWS message, but actually allow for blatant misinterpreting from opponents. And honestly, the term 'Redistribute the Wealth' doesn't sit well with me. It sounds a lot like 'Hand Me Some of What You Got.' I don't want what you got. I want what I earned, and I want your ass in jail if you stole it.

So to those of you who think this movement is about handouts, be advised. You are wrong.

This is about Corporations who forced their workers to pay into pension funds and then syphoned that money away to themselves using tricky loopholes that Congress continues to allow. And while you continue voting for representatives who protect these CEOs, these CEOs will continue their decimation of workers' retirement plans to boost their own pay and pensions. You, who does not understand this movement, are handing over YOUR money and future to someone else. Period. That, to me, is stealing. And while Congress continues to allow it, there's your fucking Hand Out.

If I'm wrong, why did Eric Cantor once talk of "The battle for our Democracy" and how "We must win this battle," and how "We can take this country back" only to claim NOW that "[He] for one [is] increasingly concerned about the growing mobs occupying Wall Street and the other cities across the country?" Because he's full of shit, that's why. Full of CEO/Corporate shit that's been pumped up his cornhole too far by CEO/Corporate dick.


If you really don't understand the protests, you've been brainwashed. If you pretend you don't understand, you're really fucking rich and very nervous.


List of Demands

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

The Fuck Up Fairy Flies United.

I spent last week back east visiting my mother. Her husband, who I hate like poison, was getting out of the hospital, and I just wanted to make sure she could handle his return home. She is old, and he is Street Rat Crazy. His release was abrupt news so I quickly bought the most affordable ticket which included flights with a stop on both legs. I've flown only a handful of times, and did not know this was just plain stupid.

The MRI and Neurological check ups I go through twice a year were both scheduled for Tuesday morning and afternoon, and I didn't want to postpone them. To squeeze in as much alone time with my mother before He Who Ruins Her Life got home, I chose to end that very long day with a Red Eye Flight that would get me to her early Wednesday morning, a full day before she had to pick up the Douche Cannon. I assumed I'd be so tired I'd just sleep the through the flight, but the seats were unbelievably small and uncomfortable, and there was a very large passenger to my right who had no choice but to take up half of my space. The plane flew through a very stormy night and the constant turbulence added no comfort. It was just impossible to sleep through such a bumpy ride.

To top it all off, the flight was delayed for 35 minutes. It was just enough time to make me believe I might possibly catch my connecting flight and then miss it by one minute. For real. I arrived at the gate only to see my plane backing away. Had the pilot been looking, he would have been close enough to see me give him the finger.

So I rebooked the next flight available and sat there, tired as fuck, for four hours waiting to board the model kit airplane they constructed earlier that morning. You could smell the glue still drying on the wing. We boarded and then sat on the runway so long the pilot apologized for Air Traffic Control not being "on top of their game" that day. We'll chuck that phrase into the bin of shit I don't need to hear.

We landed, I spent a few precious hours alone with Mom, and then endured the next few days with her and her husband who sucks a bag of dicks.

I returned to the airport on Saturday at noon looking forward to getting away from the Bag of Dick Sucker and returning to The Boy and our pets, but sometime after we were supposed to board the plane, United told us the engine was leaking oil. They delayed the flight every hour with constant reassurances that it would all be done soon, so everyone rebooked their connecting flights but kept their eye on the clock because with every delay, it became clear that our new rebooked itineraries would require another rebooking.

Now, United could have been honest with us at noon and confessed that their mechanics would spend the next 8 hours Coming Down and might get to the repair when the snakes and bugs left them alone, but they were so desperate to avoid spending money accommodating us with meals, hotel rooms, and flights on other airlines that they strung us along all day and kept their fingers crossed that they could MacGyver the hemorrhaging engine with something cheap like gum and a paperclip. At 8PMish when they announced that they MIGHT need to order a part, I believe I snapped. A Fucking Part to a Fucking Plane that I have to Fucking Fly to another Fucking city to get a connecting, Fucking Flight. Fuck That, you Fucking Fuckers.

Exhausted as I was, I approached the counter and told United to rent me a car so I could drive to another airport, to buy me dinner and a hotel room for the night, and to pay for a direct flight for me to get home. They told me they could take care of everything, but couldn't rent me the car, they could only send me a limo and give me a ride. Well spank my ass, and call me Charlie, I'll take it.

The limo took me to another airport, and when I arrived, there was no one at the United counter. NO ONE. At United's counter, at a big airport, at 9PM, on a Saturday night. So I pick up the Courtesy Phone and explained that I needed a staff member because I'd been sent there due to mechanical problems with their plane in another city and that I had been given vouchers for not just a direct flight on another and much better airline, but for a meal and a hotel room - on them. Of all the things I was prepared to hear from the woman on the other end of the line, "How did you get this number?" was not one of them. I shit you not, I've been at an airport all day, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I just want to get home and am still no closer to it than I was when I arrived at the first airport 9 hours earlier, and this vaginal blood fart on the other end of the phone acts like I've phoned her cell.

How did I get this number?!? Bitch, are you fucking stupid for a living? I did not wake up this morning to be flypaper to cunts today, I will fucking cut you. I have been through Shawshank this week only I tunneled through a lot more shit and there was no fucking redemption so sort yourself out NOW, and put my ass in a comfortable bed or I will hunt you down like you owe me money and so help me I will never stop smacking you. How did I get this number? I got it from your Baby Daddy, you bloated sack of cum. Now suck my dick or be prepared for me to shove my dick in your eye because I am NOT having this. Cunt.

Everything was smooth from that moment on. Fast shuttle to a free room at the Hilton, free meal, a little alcohol, a comfy bed all to myself, and a direct flight home that was not just on time but arrived early and had leg room. I'm 5 fucking 2. If I tell you that first flight had no leg room, I assure you, there was no room for your fucking legs.

I stepped off the plane pretty well rested, but 30 minutes early so I sat at the bar, ordered a shot of Jack and a breakfast sandwich, and promised myself to never do it again...

Mama Said Knock You Out

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

Not Seeing is Believing

[In light of Troy Davis' upcoming execution later today, I'm returning to this post to add this opening paragraph. I have no idea if he his innocent or not, but there is no DNA evidence and 7 of the 9 eyewitnesses have recanted their testimony. The video I've posted should be taught in schools...]



I originally began reading Richard Dawkins' The Greatest Show on Earth to better arm myself with facts against 'people' who claim the Theory of Evolution is 'just a theory.' No shit, I've had two grown men use that argument with me in the past 10 weeks. The second one, a volunteer going door-to-door for a local politician, believed the Missing Link was proof enough that Evolution is improbable while I maintain that the Missing Link knocked on my door that day. Schmucks.

Before I talk about a book I'm reading, I prefer to get through the whole thing, but by page 32 I discovered that I'd been blown away at least 32 different times. It's just incredible - the information as well as the way it is spelled out for the layman. Holy Fuckballs.

Anyway, this was one of my surprises. Curious to know how it works out for you...

Unbelievable

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

That is Still Matt Long for Me.

Just about every book I read comes from the public library. It can take weeks or months for a book to become available, but it saves a tree, saves me money, and our apartment doesn't become smaller and smaller with each new book we have to store. Last week I got the library's email telling me Matt Long's autobiography was ready for my checkout, and I read it, coincidentally, amidst the week's constant media coverage of the September 11th 10 year anniversary. Long was a fireman with Ladder 43 of the FDNY - one of many heroic first responders. He is, most luckily, still with us today.

But the book The Long Run isn't about 9/11. He was there. His brother, a fellow firefighter, was there too. A chapter of the book describes his own ordeal that day: How he saved a life, how he worried about the whereabouts of his brother, and how he knew that his very large, close family would be shitting themselves knowing two of their own were at the site. And like many, he lost people he loved, right there in that spot.

But this book is still not about that. It's about his mental and physical recovery after being run over by a bus while riding his bike. Not Hit by the bus. Run over and sucked in under a fucking wheel of a 20 ton bus. The details of his injury make me squeamish so I will just say that among his multiple broken bones and pelvis, he was gored by the seat post of his bike, went through almost 70 pints of blood within the first 24 hours of the accident, and was given less than a 5% chance of survival. And he survived. With the help of people who donate blood, the first responders to his accident, skilled doctors, nurses, and physical therapists, family, friends, and his fellow firefighters, he not only has recovered, he has returned to his former passion of athletic competition. He was and still is a marathon runner and Ironman.

And still, his recovery is not what I want to write about. I'm certainly blown away by his story, but there's something else that sits with me even after I've read the book's last page. This guy is a Mensch.

Long's accident happened during the 2005 Transit Strike in New York. It is the reason he was on his bike the morning a chartered bus made a right hand turn from the far left lane causing the collision. And Long has a few things to say about the striking Transport Workers Union and their president Roger Toussaint.

Now normally I start to bristle when people speak against a Union's right to strike when all they're asking for is better pay for a better life. I always will. Still, Matt Long has reminded me of what real compassion for others really is. And I love to Hate greedy corporations who rob from the poor to give to the rich. I love to hate human disgraces like Ron Paul and Eric Cantor who rally against organizations like FEMA. I love to hate the foul hypocrites who publicize themselves as Christians then do everything they can to NOT support the poor, the sick, minorities, women, blacks, homosexuals, etc. I always will.

Still, here comes my new hero.

Less than a year after 9/11 the FDNY went into negotiations for a new contract, and they waited four years until a deal was struck. While you and I and the rest of the country were applauding them for their heroic deed, they were fighting for a much needed and well deserved raise. They did not strike to get it. I'm sure the waiting affected their abilities to feed their families, but they put other people - strangers - before themselves. And they continued to put their own lives in danger while waiting for it.

That's Selflessness. That's love for your fellow man. That's a Mensch.

Hear that, GOP? Listening, you stupid fucking Teabaggers? Paying attention, people who love to publicize how Christian they are? Even you, my fellow Liberals. Take note. At least Libertarians are willing to admit they're Cunts who are just out for themselves. Everyone who waves our country's flag today or writes a fucking song about how proud he is to be an American needs to think long and hard about what he is thanking the first responders for. Because these men and women didn't run into that hot, dusty, cancer-causing rubble so that a bunch of strangers could one day live to steal and connive and swindle and kill.

Whatever your political platform is, Mr. or Mrs. I Wanna Be President, don't play us with your patriotic rhetoric. Walk the walk.



Every September 11, I think of Spalding Gray's letter to New York City. In it he describes a poster he had of a bumblebee with a caption that read "According to all aerodynamic laws, the bumblebee cannot fly because its body weight is not in the right proportion to its wingspan. But ignoring these laws, the bee flies anyway." He says "That is still New York City for me."

Dear Matt Long,
I hope you find the right one, and I hope you finally raise that family. It's purely greedy on my part, but I want more Matt Longs in this world...

God's Away on Business

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

I'd Pay to See this Movie.

That's how you do it, Bitch! Funny people rule.

Wicked Little Town

Start everyday off with a smile 

and get it over with.

Happy Labor Day

A big Thank You to everyone who works to make everyone else's life better. I gotcher back...

Welcome to the Working Week

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

You Go, Galt. And Keep on Going...

I should be reading my book (The Long Run by Matt Long) before it's due back at the library, but CNN coverage of Hurricane Irene's devastating floodwaters in Vermont keep me away.

My heart goes out to all of you in that beautiful state, but I've got a message for a few of you...

Now is the perfect time to practice what you preach: If you support Eric Cantor or Ron Paul who both are opposed to FEMA or if you support a hypocrite like Rick Perry who cries for Small Government but uses Federal Stimulus money to balance his state's budget and then has the audacity to pretend that his skills, and not our tax dollars, helped patch his deficit, I urge you to accept NO AID from the government or any public employee. Put down your copy of Atlas Shrugged and show me how tough you think you are.

For the rest of you dealing with Irene's devastation, I wish you all a safe and speedy recovery to some sort of normalcy, and I hope OUR TAX DOLLARS are spent well to help you get there.

Cunts are Still Running the World

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

Are You Stupid for a Living?

Have you ever been to the doctor and been surprised by what he found? Have you ever known someone who told you he was just diagnosed with something awful and thought, "But he looks fine?"

If you answered No to both these questions, Mazel Tov. Otherwise, you're probably aware that someone who looks healthy can be quite ill, and it's really up to a doctor who has access to big, expensive machines to determine what's going on.

So let's get right down to it, shall we? When I walk for one minute without stopping, I lose sensation in my thighs. If I continue, the loss of sensation spreads down to my legs. On warm days, I have less than that minute before the numbness kicks in. That's how MS works in my body.  That's just how it is.

I have a neurologist who sends me into an MRI every six months so he can keep his eye on all the lesions in my central nervous system, like the one sitting on my spine that is probably the culprit of my walking issue. You are not him. Unless you are, in which case Hi, Dr. B!

Do I need a wheelchair? No. Do I limp? Sometimes. Depends on the day, how warm it is, how far I've walked, and how much my exercises have helped me, etc. Do I look healthy? I guess that depends on the day too, but that's got just as much to do with how well I slept the previous night and whether or not I've whipped my JewFro into submission as the MS.

So if I walk away from a Handicapped spot, and you have the audacity to ask me if I'm handicapped, ask yourself if you've ever been surprised by what your doctor found at one of your check ups. Ask yourself if you've ever known someone who told you he was just diagnosed with something awful, and you thought, "But he looks fine!" Because you don't have MRI vision, you don't see the lesion on my spine, and I will beat you like a rented mule. How dare you, you cunt...

For Doz Dat Slept

You are the result of 4 billion years of evolutionary success.

Fucking act like it.

Nanakorobi Yaoki

Sunday night I watched Kill Bill, Volume 2 for the gazillionth time, and for the gazillionth time I envied the strength, power, and pure awesomeness that is The Bride. She may have done very naughty things when she was Bill's girl, but the movies' story begins after all that. Now, she uses her powers for Good. Well, maybe not  Good, but those people had that shit coming to them. She's Bad. Ass.

Here's the thing - much as I'd like to be that Bad Ass myself, I know you don't get to be that kind of Warrior without surviving some really shitty things in your life first. I'm not talking about I Didn't Have Money for a Swatch Watch Shitty or The Kids Made Fun of Me Shitty. I'm talking Shitty Shitty. No one is just born with the ability to calm themselves down and punch their way out of a coffin that's been buried six feet under without having first endured some Cruel Tutelage of Pai Mei which, in the movie, appears to be Pretty Shitty. Rewarding, yes, but shitty nonetheless. Not even Pai Mei was born that way. You know that fucker had it rough growing up. Rough and Shitty.

Now - when people ask about my MS, I can tell them I'm worse off than some but better off than others. Like anyone else, with or without a chronic illness, I have my good days and bad.

If I talk about my childhood I can say the same. I was worse off than many and better off than others. I have no need to ask for a different life than the one I have or had - it's all made me the person I am - my own kind of Warrior. Maybe not Uma Thurman Bride-like Warrior, but I like my Warrior anyway. In fact I happen to adore her. She cracks my shit up.

The book I was reading this Sunday was Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle. Walls and her family lived a nomadic life of freedom with parents who taught her so much about math, science, art, nature, and literature that it's hard to not envy that part of her life. And yet, Holy Crap, what she and her brother and sisters endured...

I'll bet she's one Hell of a Warrior.

Castles Made of Sand

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