May or may not be Jonathan Davis. Note watermark.
Holy shit. Fuck. Guys. Guys?
Remember the band Korn? Christ! How embarrassing — me neither. We totally forgot about it!
Halloween, 2011
October 30, 2011 By Leave a Comment
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
For me, Halloween is a bittersweet time of year. On one hand, Halloween suits my fascination with the macabre, while at the same time lacking any of the burdensome family obligations inherent in the more Jesusy holidays. But on the other bitter hand, Halloween can’t help but serve as a reminder of a certain innocence lost from American life.
Years ago, before curfews, chaperoned trick-or-treating, “fun-sized” candy bars, or mandatory sex offender notices, Halloween actually meant something. Halloween occurred after dark the night of October 31, not at 2pm the Saturday preceding at a not-so-spookily-themed FUNZONE PARTY H.Q. For children of yesteryear, the trick-or-treating wouldn’t end until the last porch light went out, the last egg was thrown, the last roll of toilet paper was hurled into the moonlit, autumnal night. There was an ambrosial magic present on this night of nights; a sense that anything could happen and probably would provided that ghouls and goblins still deemed Halloween the proper occasion to run amok.
Like so many staples of American life however, Halloween has begun to suffer, becoming sanitized and diminished in the dual names of public safety and political correctness. The very act of trick-or-treating itself has been criminalized outside the stringent and suffocating boundaries of some nannying councilwoman’s pet ordinance. The veritable cornucopia of candy that used to be the proceeds of a child’s door-to-door adventuring has been replaced with health-conscience treats, or even worse, toothbrushes. Individuals’ haunted houses and garages have been shutdown due to lack of permits. Citizens have been threatened with citations should their Halloween decorations be deemed offensive or capable of traumatizing the fragile psyches of the children. For this new breed of American youth, Halloween ends not when the last porch light goes out, but when their goodie bags have been scanned and deemed “safe” by local authorities.
But I, for one, will not be taking part in this goody-two-shoes euthanization of what used to be the greatest of holidays. Like last year, and every year back as far as I can remember, I will do my best to ensure that any child intrepid enough to brave the cold and the dark, the admonishments of weenie parents, the breathless, sensationalized warnings of local newscasters to knock on my door will be treated to Halloween as it was meant to be. Like last year, the haunted house will be in full effect. Like last year, this will consist of me being tied to the radiator while my gimp Hector whips my balls with an extension cord and I carve up the tip of my erection with a paring knife. Like last year, one lucky child will get to drink from the “Spooky Cauldron of Fun” before having his Spiderman tights ripped from his unconscious body and his luscious butthole filled with Rainbow Skittles. And like last year, each individual piece of candy will have been painstakingly unwrapped by me, covered in a load of my hot jizzum, then resealed with none the wiser.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And surely if we allow these overprotective do-gooders to succeed in the sanitization of Halloween, then the so-called “sickos” have won.
Fresh Stereotypes for Old Racists
May 24, 2011 By 3 Comments
5. Black people use ambulances as taxis
"Help me Jesus! Help me Obama! Take me to the Dollar Store!"
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
4. Every Hispanic woman is named Maria
Maria
Maria
Maria
Maria, with her cat, Maria
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
3. The Indian theatre smells like everyone farted curry
Come on in! It won't smell like ass, I promise. Just kidding! It totally smells like ass
…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
2. Arab shop owners have an inexhaustible supply of counterfeit Air Jordan’s
Are they supposed to leak frosting?
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..
1. Jews never stop talking about Gaza
Hey, did you Jews hear about Gaza?
In Which A Puke-Smelling Obese Woman Inspires Nietzschean Disgust
April 3, 2011 By 5 Comments
The author at age six
I stepped onto the foot platforms of the elliptical machine and started moving. Things proceeded pleasantly for a moment, though I had been forced to take a machine between two other people. Oddly, the gym management is unsympathetic to my constant demands for my own separate cardio room.
Then I caught wind of something foul. Some kind of mutant body odor, mercilessly attacking my olfactory center with retard strength. Top notes of halitosis, middle notes of barely digested junk food, and a resonant base note of … oh fuck, is that vomit?! Once I had detected the theme of this particular body fragrance, I couldn’t not smell it.
A Master Class in Awesome Writing
March 23, 2011 By Leave a Comment
It’s rare that a master reaches out to instruct those who most need it, free of charge. Franklin Fleming wrote an article recently at Pajamas Media entitled, “Why Every Kid in America Doesn’t Need to be Educated,” which winds up being an argument for why Fleming himself probably shouldn’t have dropped out of the 4th grade to suck dick for Chuck E. Cheese tokens. The unintentionally hilarious subtitle, “Do we really want all of us to be a bunch of educated people who never do anything useful — like the Obama administration but for the whole country?” is already a sad indication of the terrible writing and hazily-reasoned arguments to come. So I decided to show Fleming how to write like a fuckin’ champ by picking out five of his sentences that need the most improvement.
The Oscars: Who Gives a Fuck?
February 25, 2011 By 1 Comment
"You have such enormous talent!"
The Oscars are upon us, my friends, and it seems that everyone is falling over themselves to speculate about who will win, how boring the show will be, what dresses will be worn, etc. But really, why does anyone care? Why do the Oscars have even a tiny veneer of legitimacy?
Is the winner for Best Picture ever actually the best movie of the year? Certainly a movie must be at least pretty good to be nominated, but even a cursory glance through the recent best picture winners shows a penchant for swooping, swooning schmaltz.
Consider 2008′s winner, Slumdog Millionaire. What. The. Fuck. I’ll admit to enjoying Slumdog to some degree, but to say it was the best of 2008 is just a punch in the cinematic dick. Slumdog‘s plot has already been wiped from my mind, but I still enjoy re-watching the truly great films of that year: Forgetting Sarah Marshall (that’s right, I called it “great,” assholes), The Fall, The Dark Knight, WALL-E, Hellboy II, and Tropic Thunder. Slumdog didn’t have even a small fraction of the creativity or gratuitous Jason Segel cock that any of those films did.
Sometimes the Academy will pick a good one for the win: The Hurt Locker, The Departed, and No Country For Old Men come to mind as recent surprises. But were any of those truly the best film of their respective years, either? I’d argue “No” on all counts.
Or how about last year’s best movie, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World? Nope. No nominations at all. Instead, we get a list of admittedly excellent films, plus the sequin-and-cum-encrusted red-headed stepchild The Kids Are Alright.
Yes, there is a lot of subjectivity involved in judging art. Yes, it’s hard to tell what movies are going to withstand the test of time. And there is an inherent futility in saying that a certain movie is the best, because it’s being compared to different films with different artistic objectives and merits. So why bother? Because, as we all know, it’s not about art, but big egos and big money.
The winners are decided by a vote from the members of the AMPAS, who are a bunch of industry motherfuckers. And everybody knows they vote based on industry politics and, of course, a series of blowjobs.
But let’s say the AMPAS bitches voted based on their opinions. Is there anyone less qualified to judge what a good movie or a good performance is than a bunch of movie executives, producers, PR men, and makeup artists? You’d find a more informed viewpoint on film by conversing with the patients at your local special needs care facility. I probably watched more movies in my junior year of high school than these guys watched in their entire lives. Oh, sure, these old ball-sack-smelling sons of bitches still get more teenage pussy in a given week than I ever got in high school, but my point still stands.
The whole thing is flawed from the get-go. It’s nothing more than the movie industry’s pathetic display of self-fellatio. In fact, I heard Hollywood had Marilyn Manson remove its lower ribs so that it could watch him play Paul on The Wonder Years while sucking its own dick. And Abraham Lincoln helped.
So fuck the Oscars. Let’s all go bowling instead. I call not buying! Bowling is expensive as fuck these days.
————–
UPDATE: Hahahaha fuck you, Oscars! Your ratings sucked ass and another boring as fuck costume piece won the top honors. You are now completely irrelevant!
