I Seethe

Thanks to watching reruns of Scrubs, I've been exposed to the song "A Little Respect" by Erasure from their album The Innocents. This is possibly the most cloying, treacly thing I've ever heard. It would make Winnie the Pooh vomit homey and Liberace refuse to perform it on the grounds that it's too gay. Then I thought maybe there's some clever, ironic subtexts so I Googled the lyrics and discovered it's even more nauseating than I thought (sample line I am unfortunately not making up - "Soul, I hear you calling"). This cannot stand.

I'm an idealist and I want to live in a better world. I want to live in a world where I can ride my pogo stick home from work and immediately climb onto my trampoline and have bouncy pie fights with hot Asian women. I want to visit a store where the wine is made of beer and the shirts in my size have vertical stripes. I want an official dictionary with words like "floingy". I want to be able to ride unicorns through the heathers until they drop dead of exhaustion, then grill them as steaks with a soy/orange marinade. I want heaven to be reachable with a stepladder and made of pie.

To that end, as a measured and reasonable response to the music industry for dumping that bag of shart song on us, I encourage everyone to drop by their collective houses and fling their goldfish beneath their stoves, put gravel in their lip balm, set fire to their potted plants, and then set fire to the fire. They should be required by law to shave with chainsaws and bathe in rubbing alcohol. May their sandwiches be made of bologna and their pillows full of cacti. I wish them slugs in their head. May they never say "piffle" again.

Example of a woman who would be good in bouncy pie fights:

Cool - almost lunchtime.

Jesus wept

Note - the dead gorilla post was an accidental publish from Formspring.

As you've probably heard, the Westboro Baptist Church won the right to picket the funerals of soldiers with their anti-gay hate speech. I believe that everyone should have a right to free speech and that if it doesn't apply to the unpopular it really doesn't exist at all, but several states also have laws making it illegal to launch a personal attack against someone, either physically or verbally. Asking the supreme court to allow people to be sued or treated as criminals because their views are so universally disliked was the wrong request, and they rightfully slapped that bitch down. Instead the politicians should have stuck with the "their actions cross the line and become a personal attack rather than merely an unpopular opinion" angle instead. There's no reasonable way you can argue that the dead soldier's family and friends will not be forcibly exposed to their opinion and no logical reason they wouldn't feel hurt by it when they do act at hospitals and cemetaries. Or if nothing else, they could say that using the Marines' "semper fi" motto in their hate speech was a violation of copyright law and then allow the marines to do a demonstration of their own, mainly on how they've been expertly trained to storm the beeches, secure an objective, and then wipe out a tiny Baptist church full of haters.

Of course I think the best measured response was in a previous story that I read that included a link to Westboro's site which had been hijacked and repointed to drop the user on a hardcore gay porn site. And now having said hardcore gay porn site (in fact, I said it twice) I shall further say Naughty Asian Schoolgirls, free Viagra, and ninja to further inflate the hits on today's post. Plus I will close with a bunny.

A Quick Prayer

Almighty Satan, Thine is the power and the glory for ever and ever, so mote it be. If You accept my praise and wish me to sleep with this bunny in Your honor, please give me absolutely no sign.

(Rika Sato, 24 yo race queen bunny.)

(click to embiggen)

Thy will be done. Amen.

FYI - glorifying Satan will now be my default reaction to every religious peddler who bothers me at home in an attempt to sell me their lord.

Quick Question

How far into the new year will I have to wait before I can legally taser anyone who wishes me a happy new year? 'Cause I was sick of it yesterday.

Please tell me your opinion of these dickbags

Unless you live in an underwater cave on Mars, you've most likely heard about the Westboro Baptist Church at some point. If you're unfamiliar with them, they're a small group that periodically makes the news because they like to gather their families together and picket at VA hospitals and soldiers' funerals with signs that say things like "God Hates Fags" and "God Loves Dead Soldiers". Apparently they believe soldiers die in combat because our country doesn't do enough to suppress the gays. Also I think they hate the Pope (maybe he's gay - I don't know).

I doubt anyone who comments here would actually take their side (although if you do, I would LOVE to hear that point of view), but I wonder where you stand on the issue of free speech. I believe in free speech, even for douche bags, but I think any right can be taken to an unhealthy extent. I'm all in favor of it for things like public forums, meetings, and web pages, but I also think the lower courts were right to a) outlaw the intentional infliction of emotional distress, and b) agree that their protests outside cemetaries when families are trying to lay a deceased relative to rest crossed that line from freedom of expression to abuse. To the best of my knowledge, none of the Westboronians has claimed they tripped and, when they stood up, discovered they were holding a sign praising IED's and screaming hateful epithets about the Jews (maybe they're gay too).

So, what do you think? Should they be stripped naked, flayed with chainsaws, boiled in alcohol and then set on fire, or should we suck their eyeballs out with plastic spoons, fill their eye sockets with slugs, and then feed then feet first into a wood chipper? Or should we get cruel and unusual creative on them?

Cable = Suck

My cable (including Internet access) died last Wednesday. I called "customer service" on Thursday, spent a half hour on the phone with the automated trouble-shooter, then was transferred to a human and started over. After further checking they finally agreed the cable was out and scheduled a guy to come fix it the next day. He arrived and had not been told anything of my issue, but upon hearing it was out completely he intuited that the problem was outside. He discovered the cable had been disconnected, which took about five minutes to reconnect.

I had hoped they would reimburse me for the two days when I had no service, but instead they decided to charge me full price plus an additional $35 for the visit. WTF? If they decide their earnings are low, they can always raise revenue by randomly disconnecting customers and then charging them to have services eventually restored.

The sad thing is they are still a better deal than the local phone company. I had DSL in my old location, moved, and was told I had to buy all new equipment to get DSL in the new neighborhood. It was slower than before, then a storm damaged the phone lines and my download speeds dropped to about 200kbps. Several service calls later and an older technician found that the problem was in the junction box at the base of the apartment complex. Then everything was good - still slower than before (1.2 mbps vs. 1.5), but it worked and the phones were clear. Less than two weeks later, we had another thunderstorm and the problems returned. I endured three more service visits but finally gave up and cancelled all phone service when, despite telling them what the last technician said, they were completely unable to solve the issue.

Note - Georgia has thunderstorms the way Antarctica has cold, so if whatever you're peddling isn't water resistant, you may want to relocate to Death Valley.

I'll be glad when this Internet fad is over and something better replaces it.

Apparently I look like a judge from American Idol

So, I got home from work to discover that my apartment floor was flooded again. This happens often and usually marks the passing or arrival of another upstairs neighbor (the first time was on the day I moved in). However, this time it was a rare occurrence – the leak was in my apartment. Looks like Grepthar, Hell-demon of bathroom sinks, has struck again.

I reported the maintenance issue to the leasing office. My standard for a good office is based on how often I have to interact with its people. By my standards, it’s a complete fail. The people are nice and usually helpful, but I have been unable to go a single month without a visit. Years ago they got rid of the rent drop box forcing me to stand in line just to hand them a check. I suppose I could mail it, but an Anthrax scare convinced my local post office (located in a strip mall) that they were ill-equipped to sort mail, so they now send all mail to downtown Atlanta for sorting. So, for the additional price of a stamp, my rent check could be picked up late in the day, mailed to Atlanta the next day, mailed back the following day, and then the day after that would finally be deposited about 50 feet (or about twelve kilograms for you non UStians) from where it started.

So I went to the office to report the leak. You know those kinds of people who are so competent and knowledgeable that they make you relax and feel as if you’re in good hands? Okay, maybe they only exist in some kind of sci-fi alternate reality, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I got her Bizarro-world counterpart. The woman who took my complaint continually mis-recorded my information (minor details such as where I live), plus required an extended explanation of the concept of a leaking pipe, something that obviously never occurs in an apartment complex of over 600 units. “There’s water coming out of the pipe, but instead of coming out of the hole the manufacturer made in the end, it’s coming out of an unplanned hole on the side.” This is a very typical level of incompetence, and so in order to distinguish her work she frequently broke into song. I don’t mean she sang while she worked. I mean she suspended all other activity, threw her head back and belted out a couple of refrains with her eyes squeezed shut, head rocking back and forth, and voice warbling like a warped LP (remember those?). I looked around for someone with whom I could commiserate, but nobody else even broke stride during her lyrical assaults. I’m guessing she does that sort of thing all the time.

It’s been a week and still no repair. The maintenance guys always seem competent, so I’m guessing she just sent them to the wrong apartment. If you recently returned home and found a new bathroom faucet with a yellow carbon copy of a work order next to it, now you know why.

Interview meme, part never-ending

Now being interviewed by April because I have no imagination these days and all the stuff’s the same so if I didn’t meme I’d either be silent or post pictures of random Asian women. The meme rules:

“The only rules are that you have to link back to the original post and you have to put these rules in your post:

Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.”

1. What do you consider one of the all time funniest lines from a movie that you can remember?
My favorite is from a George Carlin standup routine (I’m counting that since I saw it on DVD). To paraphrase – “The existence of the flamethrower is proof that at some time some person thought ‘Gee…I’d really like to set those people over there on fire…but they’re just too far away. If only I had a way to throw flames on them.’”

2. If you married a J-Bunny and as she aged, she got fat, would you mind?
I’m lucky (I think) in that if I’m in love with a woman, I tend to think she looks absolutely perfect. So if she aged and got fat, I would start to think young women looked unattractive because they were too thin and smooth-skinned. The only way the weight thing would bother me would be if she got obese to the point where I worried about her health. Currently my vision is not loved-up, so I find this woman attractive.

(I had to slip in a J-bunny pic somehow)

3. You've commented on my blog several times that I should offer anal sex to my boyfriend. What would you suggest I say to him if, hypothetically speaking, I told you that I've asked him for anal sex but he's refused because he thinks it's gross?
I have to agree with him. I joke about it, but I don’t see the attraction. I think it’s like Sam Kinison says, that some guys just want it because they’re told they can’t have it. If you really want it, get him drunk and a condom, or just do it on your own time.

4. If you were put in charge, what would be your master plan to end all the shit going on in the Middle East?
I would have all fundies of every religion everywhere executed with a chainsaw since they tend to use their religion to give fuel and structure to their hate. I think that would be the first crucial step to spreading peace in the mideast. After that, I would like to see our country stay out of it as much as possible. I don’t think force is likely to promote peace and democracy in the long term unless the people want it and achieve it for themselves.

5. Why are some people assholes?
Assholery is as varied as the people who practice it, but most of the ones I deal with are in corporate sales. Those are the “pay it forward” kind of assholes. They spend a lot of time sucking up and taking crap from people they want to buy their products and services, so they look for opportunities to punish others in order to feel better. Customer service and tech support are ideal dumping grounds for those types. True story – I once had a person asking me to violate European privacy laws by giving her unrestricted access to their database without permission while at the same time reporting me to management for violating said laws by doing what she requested. I didn’t and thus got to keep my job. Asshole.

Interview Meme, part Joe

So I did a couple of interview memes and Joe asked to be interviewed and he posted his answers and then I asked to be interviewed and now I have questions from him. It’s kind of like bloggy incest. Reprint of the rules:

“The only rules are that you have to link back to the original post and you have to put these rules in your post. Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.”

1. If money were no object, what would you spend your life doing?
I would travel to Japan, abduct some hot J-bunnies, kill people at random, then hire a team of lawyers to get me off (the criminal charges – the J-bunnies will get me off the other way). Then I would club baby seals, torpedo endangered whales with an atomic sub, fire the rain forests, introduce great whites into penguin territory (to see if the cold gets the sharks before they get the pengys), cannibalize the J-bunnies and floss with their intestines, then hire a team of lawyers to get me off. Then I would buy the space shuttle, build a home on the moon, start my own J-bunny ranch colony and build a giant mass driver device to obliterate the Earth, starting with the bastard lawyers who got me off.
Or if you’re asking what would I like to do realistically if I didn’t to worry about making ends meet, I would like to write and travel and experience other cultures and continue my Japanese studies, hopefully with a live-in Japanese girlfriend to help me practice.

2. What do you consider to be the best decision you've ever made?
Severing contact with my mother, the last relative in my life. Bad relationships drain and twist everyone involved and tend to drag down all they touch. Whether you are victimized, in denial, Catholic, or just plain stupid, the only real solution for a poisonous relationship is to completely end it. Despite people bitching at me by saying things like “But she’s your mother!”, I never looked back and have felt much better since.

3. If Ebi-chan promised to marry you in exchange for you funding and being fully supportive of her receiving breast augmentation so that she'd resemble an Asian Anna Nicole-Smith (though living), would you accept her offer?
That’s tricky. I don’t have the money and don’t like women who are too materialistic and make ultimatums, but then again I don’t have any other action going on in my life, so if I can borrow the money from question #1 then I’ll go for it. If the marriage doesn’t work, I can always divorce and/or kill and dismember her later. If I don’t like the boobs, I can flip her over and go for anal (the breasts will make comfy pillows for her). Seriously, although I don’t object to large breasts, I think most women look best in their natural state. Japanese women are normally thin with almond shaped eyes, round noses, and glossy, straight black hair.

When they try to Westernize themselves with breast augmentation, eye and nose jobs, and lightened hair, they lose their exotic appeal.

(although I would still do them, but just because I’m so nice)

4. If two immortals had a fight to the death, how would it end? Bonus add-on: Please estimate the total pay-per-view revenues from the battle.
It would be a never-ending slugfest with no possible winner. Imagine any fight you’ve seen. Exciting, ne? Now imagine that going on forever. Initial ratings would be high, but then the American public would wonder what else was on and the whole thing would eventually be relegated to ESPN72r3, sandwiched in between the Weather Channel and Basket Weaving Network. People would flip through the channel every so often and at one point would wonder when the immortals decided to stop fighting and instead debate the classics. “Next week on Immortal Smack-down – Moby Dick vs. Jane Eyre!” After advertising, publicity stunts, kickbacks, licensing fees, and lawsuits, I see a total profit of about $1.72 if the immortals do go for the leather bound hardbacks, in which case I hope your credit is good.

5. On your blog, you refer to yourself as "The Grantichrist" have you ever considered something more child friendly, like "GrantiClaus"?
My blog template and title are deliberately unfriendly. Whenever I use a standard template and don’t head the page with plenty of Voodou cannibalistic psychotic Satanism, I draw some mommy kitty xtian bloggers who comment a couple of times, then slowly realize I’m not normal when I leave a few comments in return talking about sodomizing Asian schoolgirls, then the inevitable e-drama ensues involving a lot of people deciding to move and hide their blogs (and in some cases being so stupid as to leave me on their distribution list when they tell everyone their new site because they had to escape me), so I figure this way you’ve all been warned.

BTW, this is post #1,100, bitches.

Merry New Year

Continuing the interview. From Enemy of the Republic: 4. If it were in your power to give it to them, who above all in this world, deserves death?

It depends if you mean a group or a specific person. If I could annihilate an entire group, I would wipe out every fundamentalist of every religion. True believers, not free thinkers, are the cause of most of society’s ills. The fundies tend to use their religion to structure and focus their hate. Check out the Paradise Lost documentaries on the West Memphis 3 if you want to see small town hate-mongers in action. Ask yourself: when was the last time you heard of a Satanic suicide bombing, or a Republican conservative abortion clinic slaying? People who believe more than think are just scary.

If I’m limited to one guy, I’ll go with the pope. He’s creepy looking and in charge of an organization that can and has done a lot of personal harm and I just don’t like him. If I get to choose the method of execution, I’ll go with fatal anal using an unlubed spiked dildo on public access television.

Happy After Xmas

Fortunately all the greed and rampant consumerism that is due to the birthday of the zombie Jebus is over, and we can now focus on the things that truly matter, such as the greed and rampant consumerism due to the sales that occur after the birthday of the zombie Jebus. I'll be happy when the shopping returns to normal. I had to find a backroad way of getting to school since driving by the malls after Thanksgiving added an hour to my ten mile trip.

But to me the true meaning of Xmas is that I can't have pizza. Look, I'll take a day off for any reason, even to honor the zombie Jebus, but it's pointless if all those who serve me also get the day off. I really wanted a pizza, but I had to survive off leftover Chinese food. Next year we should take turns. The pizza place gets off xmas eve when I have to work, then they go back on duty when I'm stricken from the office.

In other holiday news, I just received my first reduced paycheck! Coupled with a missing day due to my illness! The festivities just never stop.

Still tweaking my template. If anyone has a suggestion other than "you need to find Jesus" (note - I saw him in the Home Depot last year), leave a comment. I'll close now with another picture of Ebi-chan.

Medical Reaming, part the latest

I’ve been paying several of my doctors on a monthly basis, and so far there hasn’t been much problem with that. Reviewing that last sentence I realize that it is, technically, what we in the IT industry like to call a “lie”. They’ve been late to post my payments, quick to make vague threats about turning me over to a collections agency, and generally incompetent when it comes to difficult tasks such as deducting one number from another, giving the proper contact phone number, or putting stuff in the mail. However, if you take all that as being minimally competent (I’d be fired, but it works for them), then I haven’t had much problem with them recently.

Until recently, that is. One of the many offices bleeding me dry sent my monthly statement containing two pages of detailed entries to reflect the fact that, since my last statement, all of my monthly activity consisted of me sending them a single check. They acknowledged receipt of my $100, said they were sticking $8 in a shoebox, another $8 into a coffee can, and then politely forgot to mention the remaining $84. It probably went to the costs of printing and mailing my monthly statements.

That was Swiss clockwork precision next to the letter I received yesterday which said they were returning my check because they didn’t know which patient I was. They were able to send me the letter because my checks clearly have my full name and address printed on each one, but apparently they have so many patients with my exact name and address that they were unable to make a match and credit my account. Upon closer inspection, by which I mean the instant I looked at it, I discovered that they didn’t really return my check, just a copy of it. My checks are colorful and feature pictures of M&Ms and are totally gay unlike the black and white thing I received, although they did at least cut it down to check-size instead of 8 ½ x 11. I checked my bank account and saw they actually DID cash the check, they just couldn’t decide whose account to credit. Gee, I guess they’ll just get to keep that money for the office party and I should immediately send them another check in the hopes that they figure out who I am (that guy who has been sending similar checks for the past several months). Fuckers.

It’s cheaper to pay them monthly rather than put it all on my credit card and pay interest, but then again the credit card companies somehow manage to keep simple financial transactions straight. They must employ partially trained monkeys, whereas the medical community obviously uses an abacus (just one they have to share) operated by mayonnaise. I wonder if I should go the credit card route so we can get past the repayment phase and move on to the bitter recrimination phase. I’m sure that after I pay them off they’ll claim I still owe money, to which I will politely tell those moron fucktard twattwits that I have in fact paid my bills and will offer proof in the form of their bills and my cancelled checks and credit card statements, to which they will insist their math is obviously gooder than mine and will turn it over to a collections agency who will call me and make angry threats despite my offer to prove payments and will only go silent after I send registered mail telling them to only communicate in writing, and then I will talk to a lawyer who will advise me just to pay them off rather than risk my credit history or pay court costs and I will refuse and spend ANOTHER seven years waiting for a falsified blemish to disappear (yes, I have done all this before, just with an apartment company trying to extract an extra month’s rent from me). Or maybe, since we’re headed in that direction anyway, I should just stop paying them now. Or deliver a holiday fruitcake laced with cyanide and TNT and Zima.

Happy fecking Hannukwanzaramadamasux everyone.

Open Letter to McDonald’s

Last night, in a moment of weakness, I actually stopped by one of your “restaurants” and ordered some “food”. The cashier automatically super-sized my meal as I expected (you have to argue with them if you want normal size) which is why I ordered a small burger instead of a quarter pounder. She told me to go to the second window, called me back to the first one, then gave me $3 in change from a twenty. I tried to recall her to the window, but when I couldn’t get anyone’s attention I drove to the second window, waited for my “fast” food to be ready, then informed cashier #2 that #1 made an error and showed him the three bills I hadn’t pocketed. He asked for my receipt (which was in the bag he held), then informed the manager. She questioned #1, who refused to admit she may have made a mistake and instead loudly insisted she gave me $13. The manager asked that I pull aside and wait for her to count down the register. I waited for a while, but decided the odds of me getting my $10 were pretty low (IF the register is over by exactly $10 AND the Mcfucktard can count AND #1 made an honest mistake and didn’t pocket the money AND they own up to it…) and my food was getting cold, so I left. When I got home I discovered I paid $17 for the wrong “Extra Value Meal”, one that came with a double quarter pounder and an apple pie-like substance. I’d share the details from my receipt, but your Mcmorons kept it. As an added bonus, I lost a half-day’s pay this morning because your meal broke my three day healthy streak and forced me to spend the morning on the toilet sharting my brains out.

So, I got screwed royally and you have no system in place for satisfying customers except for a complaint form on your web site, which has as yet gone unanswered, so I’m forced to think about what would be a measured response to this grievance. My initial thought is to burn the restaurant down with all employees locked inside except for the cute little manager. I should follow her home, anally rape her to death, use her credit card to order gay porn for her bosses, family, and religious leaders, flush a bag of cement down her toilet, shit on her cats, dump canned salmon into the heating vents, and lock myself out of her home after putting “Achy-Breaky Heart” on her stereo at ear-splitting levels. It’s just my initial response – I’m sure if I put some thought into it, I could come up with something mean.

On second thought, I’ve decided to view this as a positive experience. I keep telling myself that between the bad food, high prices (even without having an additional $10 stolen, the cost was equivalent to lunch at a local Asian restaurant), and surly staff, there is never any reason to visit a “fast food restaurant” except to remind myself that there is never any reason to visit a “fast food restaurant”. So now I’m taking a solemn vow to never give another penny to any of those establishments. If I’m hungry and have nothing at home, I’ll either go to a real restaurant or grab a frozen dinner from a supermarket. Or make popcorn or miso soup. Fast food can go fuck itself.

PS – the fries were tasty.

PPS – Mcfuckers.

Tis the Season

For gluttony and greed. Going into the holiday weekend, I lamented the fact that my friends all had families* of their own and would be largely out of touch. Now I've experienced three wonderful days with nothing but selfish indulgence - reading, studying, exercise, TV, and food. The food was probably less exciting than what the rest of you endured (leftover Chinese, an awful turkey and dressing TV dinner, miso soup, ramen noodles), but considering I am at home resting and the rest of you are running yourselves into the ground to live up to your familial duties in the midst of jobus interruptus, I think I'm the lucky one. Ha ha haaaa, go suck it, you losers with family!

Plus which Tracy sent me some unsolicited stuff and didn't even demand sex in return, which is kind of classy. For the record, I approve of getting stuff. I got three things - a tin of wasabi gumballs (I'll try them out on sensei first), a t-shirt depicting a man lifting a woman's skirt on a train with a warning in Japanese "Beware of Perverts" (I'll wear it at a local J-elementary school and bag the little bunnies when they lean in to read the writing), and a sex doll of character Rei Ayanami from the anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Since the figure is only 15cm tall (that's about 7 fluid ounces or 1.5 pound/feet of torque for you dunderheads who don't understand the metric system), it's going to be a little difficult to have sex with her, but me and my small penis will manage. BTW, there are at least three other female characters in that anime, so if someone wans to send me another, I can start having threesomes.

Darned if I'll ever figure out how Tracy discovered I have an interest in Japanese women and culture, but I don't care. This is already shaping up to be the bestest Hannukwanzaramadamasux ever. I can't wait for the next four-day weekend alone.

* by which I mean, families they don't hate and haven't carved out of their lives and that they hope are now dead or at least suffering intense pain.

In keeping with the recent trend of awesomeness

Axe killing techniques as taught to tartan-clad Japanese schoolgirls:

I'll take a dozen.

It's Time for Change

And, no, this is not about the feckin' elections. I looged onto bloglines this morning and it reported over 300 new posts, many as recent as April of 2004. And it reported no activity for some people who did post. And it reported broken feeds for others.

So, I'm finally switching to google reader, a move that would fill me with more confidence if it didn't frequently report errors while I was trying to add all your blogs. If I used to comment on your site and abruptly stopped, it's not because I hate you. It's because you were lost in the switch. Either that, or I hate you. Leave me a comment and I'll visit your site to inform you of why I hate you.

And just to shut Crys up, here is a short vid of a forest and an ocean that has nothing to do with J-bunnies at all.




And another one with more ocean.




Direct links are here and here.

Time to Unite the Nation

I thought I would take a moment this morning to bring us all back together as Americans, be you democrat, republican, libertarian, or even Eskimo (but not religious fundamentalists, because you guys are scary and should move to the Middle East). And as patriotic Americans, I think we can all agree that what unites us, what has been the one shining example of quality American know-how and can-do throughout the decades, is our ability to bomb people.

If you look at our history, you’ll notice we used to exclusively bomb white people – mostly classy Eurotrash. Then in WWII we tired of our racist policies and switched to yellow people. After Vietnam, we escalated to light brown people (Grenada, Panama) and have now moved on to medium brown (Afghanistan, Iraq). The logical progression would be to next invade Pakistan, and some of the saber-rattling has indeed indicated that could be our next step. I believe that’s why we didn’t interfere with Darfur – we’re not scheduled to bomb black for a couple of decades. But as an American who is supposedly part Cherokee, I protest the fact that we went from yellow to brown and completely skipped red.

According to studies I’ve red, Native Americans are the most marginalized racial group in our society with the highest rates of suicide, divorce, poverty, drug and alcohol addiction, and unemployment. This is exactly why I think our next strike should be against the Cherokee nation. History has shown that being bombed by us is good for the economy, and I for one am sick of all our economic aid (read: bombs) being used for the benefits of foreigners who, by definition, reside outside of the U.S. Who did we bomb the worst? Japan. Who has the world’s biggest economy outside of America (natch)? Japan. Number two in both cases? Germany. That’s why Vietnam’s economy has been improving, but they are not yet a world powerhouse. They showed a lack of insight by asking us to leave before we bombed them into economic fruition. I’m assuming that’s how the war ended since no American would ever be anything less than a gracious visitor to a foreign land.

So, we all need to pull together and eliminate Oklahoma, the new capitol of the Cherokee nation. Two reasons for this – 1) it’s Oklahoma, and who’s going to miss it? (okay, a few Oklahomans might get a bit prickly, but otherwise…) 2) It would be the ultimate act of concession. Instead of simply handing over bits of land to be used for casinos, we blast the red man into wealth and power. And no wussy atomic bombs this time, either. Americans deserve only the best. I’m talking mass drivers in outer space flinging porpoises with frickin’ laser beams strapped to their heads with a hundred pounds of plastique in their bellies. The new state motto will be “Oklahoma – Bunnyland’s Pothole” (the name will make sense in a few). Once my people have all been destroyed, we’ll be on top again.

Since this is my idea, I will of course be Head Honcho (my official title). The country will be known as the United States of Bunny. (The title USoB came to me as a flash of genius this morning when I cut some loud dude off in traffic) Despite the title, government will make no laws which regulate personal relationships, restrict or encourage religious beliefs, or that favor one race or sex over the other. Exception – any hot Asian women who sleep with me will receive an automatic head honcho pardon.

Hot J-bunny: “I just murdered my husband. And the other thirty-eight guests at our dinner party. And Iowa.”
Me: “Quick – get naked! If I don’t penetrate you before the authorities arrive, you could get into trouble.”

You know I’m right.

Hippy Halloween

In honor of the holidays, I’d thought I’d tell a lovely tale involving underaged sex, boobies, and witchcraft. Long time readers (if I have any) may recognize this as a story I told already, but I don’t care. I’m writing it again, so you can all READ IT AGAIN. Asshats.

Once upon a time there was a thirteen year-old girl who was sent to a Baptist bible camp for a week. After a couple of days, the camp secretary called her father (my coworker) and asked him to remove his daughter from their camp because she had been caught practicing witchcraft. By way of expressing my sympathies I offered to pay his daughter if she could curse a few people I didn’t like, but he somehow failed to see the humor in the situation. Being the good xtian parent that he was, he grounded his daughter on the basis that strange adults had expressed their disapproval before finding out the actual story.

I’m always angered when I hear about schools and churches who punish kids for practicing witchcraft, not so much because of their narrowmindedness but because 1) the fact that they’re punishing the practitioners seems to indicate they believe in witchcraft, and 2) I don’t know of a single case where any of the spells actually worked. Bunch of pathetic Satanic wusses – no wonder American craftsmanship is so shoddy. All of my death spells work, even if sometimes my wand (read: chainsaw) needs the help of the gods, which is what I named my flamethrower.

Anyway, after questioning the kids and adults, another story emerged. His young daughter, on her way to obesity, had made an early stop at maturity by having a figure most J-bunnies could only have after several twinkies and major surgery. This enraged the flat-chested fifteen year-old bible camp princess (the granddaughter of the camp’s matriarch and patriarch) so she enlisted the help of a boy to have sex with the 13yo in order to discredit her. The 13yo refused his advances, so he did the only mature thing he could and slapped her bible from her hand. When it hit the ground, the CD insert she was using as a bookmark tumbled out. The boy looked at the artwork and the pop band and declared that she was practicing witchcraft, to which she replied “Yeah, and I’ll put a spell on you.” That gave princess no-boobies and her henchman all the ammo they needed, and they reported to the camp leaders that the 13yo had pagan artwork and was threatening people with witchcraft. The adults decreed that she should be immediately removed, preferably before turning anyone into toads.

The story would have been more interesting if the kids all had sex, then the 13yo ripped the boys heart out and offered it up to Lucifuge, but then again reality is always a major letdown. The girl was released from being grounded after the truth emerged, and to my knowledge has not cast another spell. Although, come to think of it, my coworker never did mention running into any of the others again.

Bunny Dumped

Earlier this week, a woman I’ve known for about a year suddenly sent me the following e-mail: “Please don’t send me anymore e-mail. Thanks.”

It wasn’t a total shocker. Her husband has always seemed controlling and hasn’t wanted her to have any friends, male or female, and now that she’s quit work to deliver his baby it seemed like the perfect time to tighten the noose and cut her off from everyone. I’m sure she didn’t want to do it, but she’s totally dependant on him now.

So, as long as we’re operating in dumpage mode, I thought I would weed out some of the newer readers. I used to have custom blog templates with depictions of Hell that did nothing to signal that I might be a tad abnormal, so people would join in until I said something not to their liking, and then they would act like a puppy who had been promised a treat but got neutered instead. So, to avoid any confusion, allow me to share my basic ethos.

By default, I hate all people, but especially hypocrites. Random Killing Sprees© are a legitimate form of entertainment. All organized religion is bad. Metal. I’ve been into recycling since before green became the new black. The world will eventually be destroyed by Giant Atomic Chickens™, in accordance with prophecy. There is no good reason for anyone to ever get married. Cannibalism is fucking funny. Japanese women are often hot. Satan rulz! I like chainsaws. Purple is pretty, but green is still my favorite color. I want a pet zombie.

If any of that offends you, quietly tiptoe away and shoot yourself. I’ve already filled my drama quota for the week. Seriously – if you don’t like this blog, please go somewhere else. Comments telling me I’m bad and need to find jebus have yet to significantly alter my life.

Also, it’s time to decide whether or not I want to continue being part of the local Japanese group. I joined it in the hopes of making friends. A year later and my new friend count is (let me double-check): 0. The Japanese, who are not nearly as polite as their reputation would suggest, attend in order to meet other Japanese. The locals attend in order to meet Japanese. Absolutely nobody is interested in meeting an American. I think I’ll attend one final dinner to see if everyone is as standoffish as I remember, then make my decision.

Avitameme

I have nothing to blog about these days except my recovery (I'm in pain! I think this is what pain feels like!) and paying hospital bills (see previous note), so I'm doing Avitable's meme.

My favorite age: cretaceous.
My best friend: Nunya Bidness.
My celebrity crush: えびちゃん。

My defining characteristic: lack of basic sanity.
My most evil moment: I once dared a friend to join me in a shot of Sheep Dip, a brand of scotch that doesn't taste nearly as good as the label would indicate. Little did he know that, while he was in the bathroom, I ordered butterscotch schnappes for myself. I downed it and pretended to grimace, then said it was his turn.
My favorite food: panang curry with chicken, peppers, and green beans over rice with jasmine tea. Formerly lasagna.
My grossest injury: I once cracked my head on the ceiling of our house, tearing the scalp from one side to the other and opening an artery. Go ahead, say it - it explains a lot.
My biggest hatred: hypocrite xtians in any so-called organized religion.
My most illegal activity: I used to steal from my employers when I felt they owed me. For example, when a promised raise didn't go through while working for a national pizza pizza chain, every work day I calculated how much they owed me and then took what was owed (and no more) from the register.
My need for justice: rude people should all be killed as a lesson to others to watch their manners.
My most knowledgeable field: I know all that there is to be known except how to get a Japanese girlfriend. Also I'm good with English and Databases.
My life's goal: I currently have no goals beyond dinner.
My mother's influence: why do you think I turned out this way?
My nerdiest point: probably playing AD&D in the Army. I don't know why I liked fantasizing about killing people with a battle axe when I was paid to kill people with a machine gun.
My oldest memory: looking up from my box at my parents. Seriously - as a baby, I didn't have a crib. I had a cardboard box with a blanket. It was nice and warm.
My perfect date: maybe a nice movie, then discussion of the movie over dinner follwed by a nightcap and anal sex. Preferably with えびちゃん and her twin sister.
My unanswered question: if god already has a plan, how are your prayers supposed to change it?
My random fact: I can't stand to look at my reflection or hear my recorded voice. Or hear anything I've written read out loud.
My stupidest decision: I don't need insurance. I never get sick, and in the event of an emergency the VA will take care of me.
My favorite television show: probably Dexter, because I understand the main character better than you. Yes, I do.
My style of underwear: Boxer briefs.
My favorite vegetable: かぼちゃ。
My weakest trait: I have no weaknesses.
My X-men power: I like Legion's pyrokinesis - the ability to set and control fires with the mind. With that, my roads would always be clear, rude people would vanish like smoke (exactly like smoke), and my sushi would never again be undercooked.
My strongest yearning: Bunny!

My moment of Zen: Driving fast at night with the windows down and music blasting. (That was actually Avi's answer, but it covers me as well. When I die, I want to be listening to Slayer, driving my old 1969 Mustang at 120+ mpg, dousing myself with gasoline, and then setting myself on fire before I get hit by a meteor.)