Dissociate Fugue

In the interest of a balance view this election. I have decided that we should hear from an individual with disparate views from my own. Since the McCain-Palin campaign has been based upon what is best for the everyman, the “Joe Six-Pack” as it were, I thought it would be best if we heard from a true everyman. The following post comes courtesy of Jessie “Turd” Miller. We found Jessie screaming his political views at a television in the bar area of the Ritzy Titz Gentlemen’s Club, where we certainly do not frequent and they do NOT know us by name. Ok you liberal fucknuts. I got me six beers and six reasons why McCain is better than Hussein Obama. Hell, I got me six reasons why McCain is better than any man woman or child on the goddamn planet. Frankly, all this liberal bullshit has been making people not think of the stuff that is good about America. That is not a good thing, and I’m smart! I will drink a beer and give you a reason. That way I got a reason to drink a beer! He...

While I try to avoid my high horse for most issues, mainly because it is incredibly high and I am prone to nosebleeds, I will make an exception about this epidemic of poorly informed consumers blasting a food ingredient of which they know nothing. That’s right; it’s about time someone came out in defense of High Fructose Corn Syrup! Seriously, this appeal to the ignorant is about as thinly veiled as an infomercial problem. “If only I had a solution that would slice this cheese in half the time! I am tired of repeatedly throwing it at the ceiling fan! What a mess!” “You like High Fructose Corn Syrup, huh? You must be worse than Hitler!” “Why is that?” “Ummm…uhhhh…cuz it’s made from Jews? No! Apparently it is fine because it is made from corn. I’ll be damned! Next they’ll be telling me that corn bread is fine, because it is also made from corn. Well, corn bread mugged my Grandmother back in 1954! Where is your precious corn now! I would like to see this specious reasoning put t...

Guest Blog by Phil “Cage Fighter” Whiley (Since I have not been able to keep the strenuous pace of writing something every once in a while, I have passed off the blog duties to one of my casual acquaintances, at least until the penicillin does its job. It is kind of bittersweet, like the time you pimped out your sister to that Amish family. They sure can bake!) I really gotta tell ya, it has been a while since I set a hobo on fire. I mean, with gas prices at what they are, it is almost cheaper to try to find one already doused in some flammable liquid. Nope, I’m a saving that up for a special occasion. Really, once you get them aflame, whatever they have been drowning their miserable little lives in keeps them burning for about an hour or two. Sometimes I’ll throw in a kitten, but just because I like the smell. That’s not really what I wanted to write about here, but last weekend just got me thinking about it. I really wanted to talk about something that is near to my heart righ...

As part of the plea bargain, this letter is to serve as a heartfelt apology to anyone who may have been offended by my conduct during one fateful day this past week. There are several incidents that I would like to touch on in this letter, in no particular order. For those of you who were present or who have children who attend the Laughing Kangaroo Day-Care, I hope you understand that my actions on September 22nd were meant to be seen as entertaining and fun, not horrific and "an affront to God" as it has so been called. First of all, my song about the paraplegic hooker was meant to be seen as a parable which dealt with the challenges we all face as human beings and, more specifically, as pimps of paraplegic hookers. I fully intended this to be a learning experience for the kids and, in hindsight, the choreography was poorly thought out and lacked reverence to the topic. It was also my understanding that children enjoyed sing-alongs and that asking them to "stay on the ...

I love a parade. I love a rainy night. I love the nightlife. I have raging flatulance.

My wife and I were lying in bed the other night. We were discussing children's cartoon shows, as we are prone to doing. I mentioned how I kept getting Franklin, who is a turtle, and Arthur, who is a fuck knows what, confused. I think it is just the similarity in the names. Both seem to be the kind of names you give to a kid who you never really cared for, even from conception. This led to a discussion about what exactly Arthur is. I have to be honest; I don't think I have ever watched a complete episode. Our daughter has a book that chronicles the tales of his little sister and her day in preschool. This book does nothing to shed light on the actual SPECIES that these things are, however. My wife suggested that they may be gerbils. I reminded her that in the book, they have a pet gerbil in the preschool classroom. I say this like the book is some memorable piece of American literature. My favorite authors list out as Vonnegut, Kerouac, some weird gerbil thing, and Camus. Jesus....