Day 1: The guards were all taunting me with their politeness. “Just fill out these forms and we’ll get you set up” she said with that cheery inflection. I waited 15 minutes with nothing but my phone and many games to keep me company. The birds might have been angry, but I was downtrodden. A subhuman beast for them to toy with. The man explained the rules and how the device worked as he fastened on the electronic shackle. “Is that too tight?” he asked knowing full well that it was. I could tell that he got some kind of perverse pleasure from this. “Yes, it’s a little tight.” I told him, trying to hold back my humiliation. He would not win. “Alrighty,” he said, “I’ll just loosen it up a notch… how’s that?” Straining to stifle the tears I said, “Yes, that’s much better, thanks.” I’ll not give this sadist the satisfaction of seeing me brought low by the careless society that made me who I am.
Back in my cell it was lonely, drab. Another prisoner demanded to know what was for dinner. Something the warden was cooking up, I told him. I could sense it in his very being. I was an easy target, someone to take advantage of. He knew I would have to cater to his every whim or suffer his wrath. They say the first day is the worst. God I hope that’s true. 16 days to go and I can’t even begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I am going to expand on Scott’s earlier post by ranting, just a smoosh, about a couple things that have my mind jelly quivering.
If you have ever been on Facebook like everyone on the planet that isn’t in a cave, surviving giant spider attack and lamenting the loss of Precious, you have seen one of the posts that ends with “If this offends you, feel free to delete me”. If I could “delete” you, I would, in the style that a Cyberman deletes his victims, with brain lasers. That may be a moot point however, since you having posted your whiny tirade, have already been assimilated into some robot like, non-thinking conglomerate of scared shitheads that poop themselves if the Home Depot across town is set up different than the one they usually go to. What do you mean the paint is in aisle 2? At my local store it is in aisle 3, I can’t handle change! Having friends that have posted these things on their FB pages, I gotta say, my finger has hovered above the mouse, considering the click that would end my ever having to deal with their sorrow again, at least until they came to my house for a beer or whatever. Many of my FB friends don’t read this blog, many are religious and actually are offended on some level by me. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, we have varied opinions on politics, religion, science, food, etc. It doesn’t mean we don’t get along on other levels, video games, movies, alcohol, boobs, etc. That all aside, when you post that whiny assed, bitching, crybaby bullshit on your page, it is because you are a sad little fart in the water that needs everyone to agree with you because baby needs his bobble. Boohoo you fucking child. If you want to grow old in a world where no one scares you and nothing changes, hop in that cryo-chamber and freeze your ass for two thousand years. By then, they will either have a cure for being a bitch or the human race will have died out and you can live with the highly evolved apes. What do you mean Gabriel doesn’t share your views on super bananas? Back to the deep freeze with you. Ever have trouble finding the G-spot? well, look in the mirror you overly sensitive clit.
Next topic, Satan and Costco are working in tandem to turn your child to the darkness. A woman in Arizona; because where the fuck else?, said she noticed a 666 in a child’s B-day cake from Costco. First Monster energy drinks and now this? Why must the Devil attack our sugary snacks and carbo load beverages? The woman was terriffended enough by this demon confectionery that Costco is getting rid of the pattern. I am saddened by this because I had plans to have the frosting pattern placed over an angel food cake, just to see who would win Cakemaggedon.
“A father became outraged when he came across a Princess Leia action figure in a Target and found it to be “pretty inappropriate” for his two daughters to see”.
That is a quote from a Washington Newspaper about a Philadelphia man who didn’t know how to explain a Slave Leia action figure to his daughters. Here is another quote…
“That’s pretty inappropriate, I got two daughters I don’t need seeing that crap. They’re like ‘dad why does this doll have a chain around its neck?’ I don’t have any answers. I was just blown away looking at it,”
Well kids, it is from a movie that I never saw because I spend most of my days crying in the bathroom with my thumb up my ass instead of seeing one of the quintessential sci fi movies of all time. I don’t want my children seeing things that are offensive. That is why we live in the wholesome cultural wonderland that is Philly. the city that doesn’t allow swearing, drugs, prostitution, shitting and pissing on streets or smell even vaguely of cheesesteak farts.
Another quote: “It’s a little indecent. A little more clothing would have helped,”
Yes, why should an action figure portray a scene from a fucking movie? Why do they have to have a crack where Barbies butt slice should be? That seems a little graphic, did you catch your husband pounding one out to Elsa on Frozen and since then you feel that every female hero needs to dress like a more modest Mary Poppins?
Stop it, we live in a society that we should be trying to improve, not make every little bitchy complaint of every touchy cunt, into some human interest story.
I’ve recently come to the conclusion that, very often, bashing those who take offense to anything is the lazy man’s edgy. If you’re on Facebook, and you have friends on Facebook, you most certainly have seen stupid memes complaining about people who get offended at, well, it’s never clear really, probably whatever the poster is attached to that offends people. Occasionally people do take offense to something benign, or something provocative that disturbs their worldview. However, more often than not the poster is upset that whatever racist or sexist thing they like is no long socially acceptable and they, rather than say the racist/sexist/ (pick an ist or phobic) thing, they complain about weak people taking offense.
The June 17 shooting of nine people in a church in Charleston, SC reignited the movement to get the Confederate Battle Flag of Virginia (lest some asshole decides to give me the line “well, actually, that’s not the Confederate flag” bullshit) removed from the State Capital building. One side of the debate were those who said that it’s a symbol of slavery and racism because it was always traditionally displayed by slavers and racists and has no place on government buildings, and others on that same side pointed out that the flag that was used in an armed insurrection against the United States of America has no place on government buildings. The other side of the debate are the some of the most clueless people walking the Earth right now. They said it’s their heritage. I suppose you could say that, but not a heritage that any right minded human should be proud of. They said it stands for Southern Pride. Again, why? They said the flag didn’t cause that stupid asshole to shoot up the church. We said, yes, you’re right, but the inherent racism in our society that allowed the flag to be displayed in the first place certainly contributed to the murders. To which the opposition said, “Well, shit. Free speech and stop being offended and where’s my sexy sibling!” Either way, they lost and the flag was taken down.
Since then the Facebook people polished up their clickin’ finger and proceeded to passive-aggressively whine about it by posting the offended people memes and the false equivalency memes and the what the fuck are you talking about memes. Below are some of my favorites.
This is what passed for dialogue for some people. I always picture some knuckle-dragging yokel seeing these memes and going “fuckin’ A right!”
I know some of you out there might be picturing legions of uptight liberals sitting at home being outraged about everything that you hold dear, and I’m sure those people exist. Most of them are at Universities blocking anything that slightly challenges their second semester worldview. Most of the time, however, it’s people going “you know, my grandmother was beaten up by people carrying that flag, and her grandfather was burned alive by people carrying that flag, so how about we don’t put it on government buildings?” Some people are just too sensitive I guess.
None of this is to say that I think it’s wrong to offend people. But it should be thoughtfully done with some idea of why you’re doing it. Some might find vocal atheism offensive, but I have a reason for it and I’ll stand by everything I say. And I realize that I wrote something rather offensive earlier when I suggested that everyone who supports Robert E. Lee’s Confederate Battle Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia (happy, nerds?) has sex with their siblings. Please understand that the only reason I wrote that is because everyone who supports the Confederate flag has sex with their siblings. I’m glad we had this talk.
Joe and I decided to record a podcast after we discovered that all that is needed for a podcast is a microphone and a couple of asshole. So, listen to us drink beers and discuss current events like the Duggars, Caitlyn Jenner, Mad Max feminism, booze made for shitheads, and Joe’s atrocious farts.
Pickup Artistry is the process of manipulating women into putting out through use of bullshit and a wing-man. The process involves buying drinks for a woman, lying to her, exploiting her vulnerabilities and having a group of meat-heads run interference on her annoying friends who have the unmitigated gall to try to protect their drunk friend from potential rapists. That’s what bros are for, bro. You can’t very well have some cock-blockers when you’ve spiked up your locks and donned your finest overpriced t-shirt that looks like something your little sister made with glitter glue. If you want an idea of what I’m talking about, consider that there’s a technique called “negging” wherein the PUA purposefully insults a woman to take her down a peg, lower her self-esteem and make her more open to his advances.
Now that we’ve established how much respect I have for any man who calls himself a pickup artist, let’s move on to real and proven techniques for how to get women to take you home with them. I have, in my short time on this planet, had more than my share of one-night stands, threesomes and random make-out sessions. In fact I’ve had so much more than my share, that if you’re constantly striking out, it may be because I’ve dipped into your share. That’s probably not actually a thing. Anyway, without further ado, let’s move onto the next paragraph explaining exactly how an overweight, moderately attractive, brilliant, and humble fellow like myself has had so many sexual partners. Oh, and if you’re a woman, or gay, just switch around gender identifiers until this pertains to you.
Assuming you’ve made it this far without rolling your eyes so hard at my apparent arrogance that they cracked the top of your skull, here is my secret: Stand around being awesome until someone offers to fuck you.
Okay, there’s a bit more to it than that. I’m a rather outgoing person. I feel very comfortable in a crowd where I don’t know anyone. Somehow my complete inability to avoid verbalizing every thought that pops into my whisky-pickled brain works to my favor in social situations. Occasionally, an attractive woman will find my serious character flaws appealing and latch on for the evening. After a few hours of me being me, I will sometimes find myself showing off my sexy lingerie to a beautiful woman. Yippee!
In case you missed the most important part of that paragraph, it was “me being me.” I’m not the best me I can be, I don’t put my best foot forward, I don’t even bother looking my best. I may or may not omit the story about how, in 8th grade, I pissed over the toilet seat while taking a poo and had go back to class and sit in front of a girl on whom I had a serious crush with a huge pissy wet spot on the back of my pants. It all depends on how I’m feeling. I just be who I is and things tend to work in my favor. There’s no point in trying to be someone else, people will see through it and you’ll look like a twat. Take it from Mr. Zappa.
I will practice minimal hygiene, drink slowly so that I’m not tanked after an hour, and talk and listen to her as if she were a person. Write that last part down. She’s a person just like you, her thoughts and feelings have all the validity as yours. Act accordingly. Women respond to confidence without dickishness. Be funny, be ridiculous, be crass. Debate, find common ground, flirt. Don’t be afraid to disagree with her. If she loves J.D. Salinger and you couldn’t finish Catcher in the Rye because of what a complete pile of shit it is, don’t pretend you like it. Speaking of insults, negging is bad, but playful insults similar to what you do with your male friends is good. Negging is designed to lower her social status, light-hearted gibes just lighten the mood. Use fun hyperbole on that which you have in common. For example, if you both love Tom Waits, joke about how anyone who doesn’t like Tom Waits is just like Hitler, but in a bad way.
“But wait,” you might say, “that sounds like you’re telling me to behave exactly like I do with people I’m not trying to fuck.” You’d be correct. There are exactly two differences between talking to someone with whom you want to do it and with whom you do not. One: at some point you’ll be sitting closer to her. Two: Fart less. The single most important part of any potentially sexual relationship is to pay attention. To everything. EVERYTHING. Listen to what she says, what she doesn’t say, see her body language. Chances are, she’s telling you to make a move with her shoulders, or she’s telling you to fuck off with her left cheek. In the game of love, social cues are of the utmost importance.
For those of you who feel like you simply have no luck with women, allow me this digression to set you on the path to self improvement. I promise you, the problem is you. While some women might seem to only go for assholes, and perhaps a few really do, you will probably find that those assholes have some other qualities as well. The reason why it seems like nice guys finish last is because nice guys are dull. So called “assholes” tend not to be. And the asshole might only be an asshole. After all, you’re only hearing her side of the story. For all you know, she might be the asshole. Either way, try to be better than nice. If all you got is nice, go fuck yourself. If your attitude is that your female friend should fuck you because you open doors for her and don’t rape her when she’s passed out, again, go fuck yourself. I opened the door for an old guy carrying a box the other day, doesn’t mean he owes me anything. Showing kindness doesn’t obligate her to mount you. Kindness should be for its own sake. Everyone has painful friendships involving unrequited love. It sucks. Get over it. The last time I got “friend zoned”, it was very painful, but I managed to get over my romantic feelings for her. She’s now married to a great guy and has two adorable children and is one of my most treasured friends. While we’re on the topic, remove the expression “friend zone” from your vocabulary. Digression over.
Now, if things worked out, you’re about to have sex. If you have female friends (if you don’t, you’ve missed a crucial step in the whole learning to hook up with women process), then you’ve probably heard stories about a guy or seven that just didn’t get her off. As it turns out, women are just as keen on casual sex as men. The reason so many tend to avoid it is because of social stigmas and the fact that most of the time they won’t get off. Now, if you’ve followed the above steps, and she’s freely and happily about to fuck you, you already have the ability to turn her on. So relax and enjoy the moment. Enjoy her. A woman in the throes of passion is a big warm ball of erogenous zones. Take the time to discover them. Treat every sexual encounter as though it’s the very last time you’re going to have sex. Remember that bit about paying attention? That applies here too. There is no one size fits all getting getting women to scream in ecstasy. What turned your ex on might annoy another woman. Learn a few techniques and play around. But don’t obsess about it. You have all night. And if nothing else, there is one thing you need to do. There is a mantra you need to keep in your head at all times. Chow the box. Always chow the box. It’s as standard as penetration. No self respecting woman wants to take all that time and effort to get naked with a fella, and not orgasm. So go down. What if it’s too hairy? No such thing, go down. A healthy patch of foliage between the legs is supposed to be there. Sure, trimming makes things a bit easier, and a pube in the throat can throw off your rhythm, but it shouldn’t dissuade you. What if you don’t know how? Then you shouldn’t have left the fucking house in the first place. Read a book, go online. Someone has shared that information.
Sex is a mutual act between two (or more) people, not an adversarial relationship of attack and defend. Books and douchey stories about how to pick up women focus on a winner and loser paradigm. You go out and try to find a lady with low self-esteem, someone who might not be strong enough psychologically to ward off your advances. She doesn’t want to give it up, but through some rapey chess game of wills, you manage to convince this woman to put out. You’ve conquered her, you’ve sullied her, you’ve convinced her to give up a piece of her humanity to you. You’re awesome, bro. High five. Now kindly remove yourself from the gene pool.
A popular misconception for many artists, particularly writers, is that booze is a crucial part of the writing process. This is false. The truth is that drinking tends to hinder creativity by stifling the writer’s ability to think clearly and form a cogent argument. His best work is going to come through sober thinking and the self discipline necessary to keep writing. That said, it’s Friday night and Basil Hayden is a fine bourbon that ain’t gonna drink itself. And this particular Friday happens to be the first after the highly anticipated (by nerds and nuts) debate between Ken Ham and Bill Nye.
If you’re reading this, I’m going to assume that you’re the type that watches debates between religious folk and heathens. If you’re not that type then you’re probably not reading this and you are, in fact, a figment of my imagination. If that’s the case, then I apologize in advance for erasing your existence when I sober up. Anyway, Bill Nye is a dude who knows things about science and hosting shows about science and doing interviews about science. During the time Bill Nye the Science Guy was on the air, I actually didn’t watch a single television show save a few episodes of the X-Files, but I’m told it was fantastic. I grew up on Mr. Wizard myself. Ken Ham is an Australian Christian Fundamentalist who believes the world is 6000 years old and that Darwinian Evolution is a lie; an ironic position for one who so closely resembles Dr. Zaius.
“Scott, did you really go through all that just to compare Ken Ham to Dr. Zaius?” you might ask but probably didn’t but I’m going to pretend you did because I feel like it. And the answer is no, I did not, though it would have been a perfectly respectable thing to do. The reason I’m writing this is because of Buzzfeed contributor Matt Stopera, who went ahead and asked 22 creationists at the debate to write down a question for Bill Nye. At this point you might see where I’m going with this. I’m a drunk asshole with a computer and I don’t have to worry about any backlash from the people I’m about to ridicule because their questions indicate that they have no idea how to use the internet. Without further ado, here’s my answers to a series of questions I was never asked. With pictures!
I work at a strip joint, so if there’s children around for me to influence, I think whatever I might have to say is the least of their worries. Where are their damn parents? I do have a ten-year old son, he’s not allowed to come to work with me. So I’m doing alright so far. Bill Nye, the original recipient of the question, works tirelessly to teach children about science. That’s a positive.
No, and use of the word “scared” makes your question sound childish. I’m afraid of many things: dying before writing a novel, death in general, losing my boner, but not of a divine creator. Incidentally, I’m also not afraid of goblins, zombies, or vampires.
Yes. If there is a God, and He created natural laws, it would make far more sense to create everything else under the parameters of natural laws. Furthermore, it seems downright shitty to create everything in such a way as to point to evolution knowing damn well we would be curious and want to know more. But then, it also seems shitty to be all knowing and yet still create people that you know full well are going to burn for all eternity in hell. Free will doesn’t exist if we were created by someone who already knows the outcome. It’d be like a woman giving birth while dangling from a helicopter over an erupting volcano.
I find it hard to believe you understand the second law of thermodynamics beyond some other moron telling you that it disproves evolution. And starting a question with “Does not” does not make you seem smart any more than your smug grin that indicates how happy you are with not knowing anything.
Like, because the planet is spinning, or are you looking for something about how pretty it is? Neither answer requires God.
Um… they don’t. “How do they debunk said theories” would be a better question, but the answer would still be “Um… they don’t.” See, the problem with posing a question based on a thing you heard your pastor say is that you need to understand the thing in order to understand an answer. The Earth is not an isolated system. We get energy from an outside source as well as from within. By your understanding of the second law of thermodynamics, you should have died shortly after birth, but fortunately for you, people kept feeding you. But don’t worry, the planet will lose all its energy eventually. Just watch reruns of Highway to Heaven until it does. It’ll only take a couple trillion more years.
I’m not interested in your negativity. I practice Yesetics. One time I ate too much cheese and had to take diuretics.
Well, that’s just something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself. Get it? Because you said “objective” and I’m all giving you a subjective answer.
Chance had absolutely nothing to do with it. I was Community Chest.
I’m wondering if these questions were asked before or after the debate, and if after, did you pay any attention whatsoever? Imagine finding a pile of whale poop on top of your house. And I say to you, “If whales can’t fly, how did whale poop end up on your roof?” The first clause assumes an answer even though the real answer is that you probably pissed off a trainer at Sea World. But until you think back to that time you ran over the trainer’s cat, you just don’t know. So you should simply ask how whale poop ended up on your roof and leave out the terrifying idea of flying whales in order to give you more room to investigate what really happened.
That’s not a question. And that statement belongs on the bumper of a rusty pickup truck owned by a fat roofer who likes to tell his kids to clean the shit out of their ears and slaps his wife around.
The fact that you didn’t want your face in this picture indicates that you already know how silly this question is. Bill Nye did this debate so that people like you will have a chance to better understand how science works. In your case, start with English class. Evolutionists, secularists, humanists, and non-God believing people (ugh) are four distinct types, none of which are mutually exclusive. It’s very depressing that you’re so young and seem to have lost all curiosity about the world because you think you know everything. Perhaps you and “Bang, it happened” lady can get married and you can get a job as a roofer.
There are actually a metric fuck-ton of “in between” pieces found. You can actually start very simply by looking in a mirror. We are transitional just like everything else. There are actually many Lucy’s.
No. The only thing that metamorphosis does is give first year college kids a literary reference that makes them feel clever and introduces the expression “Kafkaesque” into their lexicon, forever damning them to sounding like complete dicks.
Creationism and the Bible are not theories. Gravity is a theory. Creationism is an origin story with the same level of credibility as the Incredible Hulk. In fact, there are two accounts of creation in the Bible and they contradict each other.
I’m going to assume that by “science” you mean “evolution” because if I don’t I’ll get a nosebleed. Everything about this statement is so proudly stupid that I need another drink.
I only have to get through six more of these.
If we are here for the sole purpose of seeking salvation and glorifying God, not being here would have been a far better state of affairs. Salvation is boring. Worship is disgusting. And creating humans just to praise Him is rather sad. If I were religious, I would pray that God find a cure for whatever inferiority issues he suffers from. Humans who behave like this end up becoming serial killers. That actually explains a lot.
I already answered this. Four more questions to go.
Yes. We can see the effects of it. Faith is believing a bunch of religious fanatics that invent facts that aren’t subject to peer review.
You’re right, it is amazing. But if any thought was put into it, it wouldn’t be possible for me to sit on my own balls.
It’s wasn’t an exploding star. It was nothing. We can’t actually imagine nothing because all we know is something. Something is everywhere. Nothing is nowhere. Trippy, huh?
We didn’t come from monkeys, we share a common ancestor with monkeys, chimps, gorillas, etc. Our closest relative is the chimpanzee. Watch the Disney film Chimpanzee. When the baby’s mother dies and it’s left all alone it’s just heartbreaking. Then the alpha completely breaks from tradition and takes care of the baby. Talk about a tearjerker. It’s like that movie L.A. Story. Did you see it? Steve Martin is sitting at home while the woman he loves is getting on an airplane and the agony that Martin conveys while Enya is playing just cuts right into your soul. Overall it’s a beautiful and hilarious movie, I’d highly recommend it. Even Sarah Jessica Parker was cute in it. L.A. Story is nothing like Chimpanzee really, except that crying like a five-year old girl with a skinned knee thing.
Well, that was fun. I hope we all learned something and became better people for it. I sure didn’t. If you want to read real answers with science and shit, here’s a link. And here’s the actual debate video. Watch it before it goes away.
And here’s the link to the song that’s been in my head since I compared Ken Ham to Dr. Zaius.
I am terribly sorry for not swearing at anyone recently, at least in blog form that is. Other projects are sapping my limited talents these days and I don’t have a lot of time to try and make wordiness and pissings. That said, I had to tell someone to go fuck themselves. Overly pious cunts that say things like, “You just wait until judgement day” or ” What will you say when you meet god”? Oy, these fucking people with their, wait until our father gets home, mentality. I know they think they win the battle of wits when the whip out that old gem like a man with two penises whips out his cocks at a who has more cocks competition. It is exactly as effective as me yelling “Wait until my nuclear powered, three headed duck monkey gives you all the syphilis”! It sounds just as crazy and almost as imaginary. So stop it, just stop it and go fuck yourself with it. Don’t say it in public, don’t type it online, just don’t do it. Especially don’t do it in caps lock. Great, we get it, you are yelling. maybe you can internet yell so loud that god will notice and be like ” Hey, that was alright; you wanna sit over by me and kill us up some sinners? Lake of fire, pip pip, and what not”. Yelling is the first action in an incomplete argument, caps lock yelling is just sad unless it is used IRONICALLY!!!!!!!!!! So stop it.