Ode on a Grecian Bag of Potato Chips
THOU still uneat'd bride of the fry,
Thou elegant babe of salts time once knew,
Stay agape at night and eat who cannot
A lofty crink'd bag the color of leaves:
What leafy gringo hast eaten my bounty?
Or deity with stylized hair and a taste for adventure?
In the Temple of the Dog I will forge you of iron?
What lords of plenty have sucked the salt from my thumb?
What pipe hast you smoke'd out of?
Heard Bon Jovi in the dead of night
Are my chips to your liking?
Not to be confused with iron mats of coal,
Pipe your songs of Western justice into my suckered pie:
Fair young maiden, why do you dip in the sour't of creams?
Thy song, of ukulele hip hop makes me yearn for Dan Rather,
Bold squirrels comb my hair in wrath!
Though I can't complain,
She reminds me when my honey cakes are done,
Forever I will eat potato chips in your arms!
Ah, you sweet minx! You surprise me like a polecat
Your splendor is untouched by Nabisco or Mr. Coffee
And, smelly nugat, wear'd to and fro,
For my love is rich with the hems of Old Navy slacks,
More cheetoes, more ruffles, more chili and gold!
For my love is like a red, red baboon,
For my hiney smells like rich onions,
All of my doodie'd shoots are clogged with rich cheese,
That smell is Drakkar and bunt cake,
A burning fire of lust for your sweet wood chipper.
Who wrote that one Journey song I love?
To Dagoba, Yoda whils't goeth,
Lead'st my collection of chess pieces to and tally ho!
And all the marmots and geese take the shape of purple oxen?
What is that smell?
Or that visual experience I just had through my nose?
Is that door ajar?
And, sucking fat from your Oprah waffle
Will you tell me a story about flaxen knobs of corn?
Why do you run when I fart?
O Mayor McCheese! Play that rhyme about mints
Of how they sat nestled on your tongue
With the taste of Formica in the trees,
Thou, I cannot ride a bear like you
As the wind doth blow on my Mr. T sculpture!
When you wish upon a star,
Thou has wish'st a good night of bowling
Than our hunting craft of whips and stones
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
He's gone straight
You Stay Here; I'll Get the Others
Oh, my god…oh, my god…this is horrible. Jesus, what the hell are we going to do?
You stay here; I'll get the others.
What? Are you sure? I mean, those…those things are still out there.
Trust me; I can handle it.
But, are you armed?
No, but I'm confident that I can find my way.
Well, let me go with you.
No, someone has to guard it.
Right, um, why don't I go get the others?
Because, don't you remember? When we assigned to this mission, the general told me that if something like this ever happened, I would go get the others. Don't you remember? And you were the guy who would have to stay behind with it.
What? When the hell did we have that meeting?
You were in the latrine.
Wait – I'm a sitting duck here. I mean, I don't have a weapon, those things keep attacking us every 30 minutes…I think I'm getting screwed here.
No, no, no. Trust me. You're not getting screwed. It's far more dangerous out there in my jet pack.
What? You have a jet pack?
Uh…
Then you can just fly over all this shit and never worry.
No, there's…there's ones that can fly.
They weigh 40 tons! There's none that can fly.
Trust me. They can fly.
No. Fuck no. This is stupid. I want to go get the others. You stay here.
Um, negative. I have the gun.
Am I to take it you're threatening a brother officer with a firearm?
Well…um…yes. I'm following orders.
What orders?
The orders to go get the others.
Wait…hold on…are there any others?
Um…
There's no others, huh? You're full of shit.
No, there's plenty of others. They're…they're that way.
This is such bullshit.
Well, off I go to get the others.
And what are you gonna do when you get them?
Come back for you and that.
This? What's in here anyway.
Nothing! It's important that you don't look in that…
There's nothing in here. It's just an empty cigar box. In fact! It's your cigar box. What the hell?
Well, it's important that that box be safe…for it's….uh…um…that's the box of magic secrets. You'd better close it before we lose all the precious magic.
This blows. I'm walking.
No, no…Um…I'm sort of suppose to get…um…
Get rid of me?
There you are! That's it. Now, be a good lad and wait here while I get the others.
Oh, my god…oh, my god…this is horrible. Jesus, what the hell are we going to do?
You stay here; I'll get the others.
What? Are you sure? I mean, those…those things are still out there.
Trust me; I can handle it.
But, are you armed?
No, but I'm confident that I can find my way.
Well, let me go with you.
No, someone has to guard it.
Right, um, why don't I go get the others?
Because, don't you remember? When we assigned to this mission, the general told me that if something like this ever happened, I would go get the others. Don't you remember? And you were the guy who would have to stay behind with it.
What? When the hell did we have that meeting?
You were in the latrine.
Wait – I'm a sitting duck here. I mean, I don't have a weapon, those things keep attacking us every 30 minutes…I think I'm getting screwed here.
No, no, no. Trust me. You're not getting screwed. It's far more dangerous out there in my jet pack.
What? You have a jet pack?
Uh…
Then you can just fly over all this shit and never worry.
No, there's…there's ones that can fly.
They weigh 40 tons! There's none that can fly.
Trust me. They can fly.
No. Fuck no. This is stupid. I want to go get the others. You stay here.
Um, negative. I have the gun.
Am I to take it you're threatening a brother officer with a firearm?
Well…um…yes. I'm following orders.
What orders?
The orders to go get the others.
Wait…hold on…are there any others?
Um…
There's no others, huh? You're full of shit.
No, there's plenty of others. They're…they're that way.
This is such bullshit.
Well, off I go to get the others.
And what are you gonna do when you get them?
Come back for you and that.
This? What's in here anyway.
Nothing! It's important that you don't look in that…
There's nothing in here. It's just an empty cigar box. In fact! It's your cigar box. What the hell?
Well, it's important that that box be safe…for it's….uh…um…that's the box of magic secrets. You'd better close it before we lose all the precious magic.
This blows. I'm walking.
No, no…Um…I'm sort of suppose to get…um…
Get rid of me?
There you are! That's it. Now, be a good lad and wait here while I get the others.
RIP PENN
The Island of Product Placement
I don't want to get all Andy Rooney on you, but DAMN – what the fuck?
I watched the Island last night, and I wasn't expecting much. I never expect anything out of a movie when the main character says some hackneyed catch phrase like "I gotta get me one of those!" or "I'm getting too old for this shit!" in the commercial.
But, it was late in the evening and I had a moody woman with me and something had to be put on the television in order for me to avoid a long talk about something.
So, with that in mind, I popped in the Island.
K, here's my big issue: product placement.
First, Hollywood churns out a shitty movie with a predictable plot, one dimensional characters, and dialogue written by a three year old on a speak and spell.
That's fine. They've been doing that since the late nineties - continuously. I don’t expect movies to ever be good anymore. I expect them to blaze radiation into my brain and put me to sleep so I can think about how maybe two aspects of the plot were interesting.
But, they churn this shit out and expect us to pay for it. And pay for it. And pay for it.
1. The movie comes out and we have to see commercial after sad commercial of it on TV, billboards, radio, newspaper, internet, other movies and so on. This is taking OUR time. Time between something we're trying to enjoy. This is a hit at our wallets in the way that every 39 second commercial is time we could be working!
2. You pay upwards of ten bucks to see the fucking movie. Somehow, as movie content has gone down the tubes, the price of a ticket has gone up. For every "The RINGER" you're paying an extra 5 cents for a ticket. It's shameless.
3. You go into the movie and are hit with, literally, 30 minutes worth of commercials. And not just for movies. It's for the Azteca down the road, Coca Cola, the concession stand, TV SHOWS!!!!, and then, other movies. More of my FUCKING TIME!!!!
4. After, or between the commercials you get a commercial from the Screen Actor's Guild or some shit talking about how we're taking money from the fucking grips or craft service people when we illegally download their shitty movies. FUCK YOU!!!! Please, I encourage everyone to download their fucking movies. Please steal from these fuckers! I don't feel sorry one bit. You know the grips aren't hurting; they're union. And if Tom Hanks can't shit on a golden swan this week, I could give a fuck.
5. Here's the fucker, fucking, motherfucking point: PRODUCT PLACEMENT. Watching the Island, I was told to buy Microsoft, Cadillac, Aquafina, Puma, and a shitty plot. What the fuck? This was only in the first hour. Isn't there some sort of tradeoff? Like, if you're getting 3 million from Puma, you'd think you could take a dime off the ticket, or can the commercials at the beginning or, maybe, NOT WHINE LIKE A BITCH WHEN SOMEONE DOWNLOADS YOUR LATEST SHITFEST!!!!
FUCK HOLLYWOOD. A gang of massive tools, circle jerking themselves using our money to wipe up with. Really. And if you feel the same, quit paying to see this bullshit. Quit watching the Oscars and the Golden Globes. Who gives a fuck? Everyone made a big stink about Tom Cruise being a nutjob douche. Well, here's some news: THEY ARE ALL NUTBAG DOUCHES. Talentless, greedy, ego driven fuckjobs.
If it were fair you'd pay AFTER you saw the movie. This year alone, I think I would have paid for one movie: War of the Worlds. Believe it or not, I liked this movie.
Movies I would not pay for: Narnia, The Ringer, Star Wars.
I'm sure there are more, but I'm too pissed off to go into it.
Fuck Hollywood.
R.I.P. Chris Penn. (Reservoir Dogs was good, and he was good in it. That was, like, 1991)
Pleace,
Matt
I don't want to get all Andy Rooney on you, but DAMN – what the fuck?
I watched the Island last night, and I wasn't expecting much. I never expect anything out of a movie when the main character says some hackneyed catch phrase like "I gotta get me one of those!" or "I'm getting too old for this shit!" in the commercial.
But, it was late in the evening and I had a moody woman with me and something had to be put on the television in order for me to avoid a long talk about something.
So, with that in mind, I popped in the Island.
K, here's my big issue: product placement.
First, Hollywood churns out a shitty movie with a predictable plot, one dimensional characters, and dialogue written by a three year old on a speak and spell.
That's fine. They've been doing that since the late nineties - continuously. I don’t expect movies to ever be good anymore. I expect them to blaze radiation into my brain and put me to sleep so I can think about how maybe two aspects of the plot were interesting.
But, they churn this shit out and expect us to pay for it. And pay for it. And pay for it.
1. The movie comes out and we have to see commercial after sad commercial of it on TV, billboards, radio, newspaper, internet, other movies and so on. This is taking OUR time. Time between something we're trying to enjoy. This is a hit at our wallets in the way that every 39 second commercial is time we could be working!
2. You pay upwards of ten bucks to see the fucking movie. Somehow, as movie content has gone down the tubes, the price of a ticket has gone up. For every "The RINGER" you're paying an extra 5 cents for a ticket. It's shameless.
3. You go into the movie and are hit with, literally, 30 minutes worth of commercials. And not just for movies. It's for the Azteca down the road, Coca Cola, the concession stand, TV SHOWS!!!!, and then, other movies. More of my FUCKING TIME!!!!
4. After, or between the commercials you get a commercial from the Screen Actor's Guild or some shit talking about how we're taking money from the fucking grips or craft service people when we illegally download their shitty movies. FUCK YOU!!!! Please, I encourage everyone to download their fucking movies. Please steal from these fuckers! I don't feel sorry one bit. You know the grips aren't hurting; they're union. And if Tom Hanks can't shit on a golden swan this week, I could give a fuck.
5. Here's the fucker, fucking, motherfucking point: PRODUCT PLACEMENT. Watching the Island, I was told to buy Microsoft, Cadillac, Aquafina, Puma, and a shitty plot. What the fuck? This was only in the first hour. Isn't there some sort of tradeoff? Like, if you're getting 3 million from Puma, you'd think you could take a dime off the ticket, or can the commercials at the beginning or, maybe, NOT WHINE LIKE A BITCH WHEN SOMEONE DOWNLOADS YOUR LATEST SHITFEST!!!!
FUCK HOLLYWOOD. A gang of massive tools, circle jerking themselves using our money to wipe up with. Really. And if you feel the same, quit paying to see this bullshit. Quit watching the Oscars and the Golden Globes. Who gives a fuck? Everyone made a big stink about Tom Cruise being a nutjob douche. Well, here's some news: THEY ARE ALL NUTBAG DOUCHES. Talentless, greedy, ego driven fuckjobs.
If it were fair you'd pay AFTER you saw the movie. This year alone, I think I would have paid for one movie: War of the Worlds. Believe it or not, I liked this movie.
Movies I would not pay for: Narnia, The Ringer, Star Wars.
I'm sure there are more, but I'm too pissed off to go into it.
Fuck Hollywood.
R.I.P. Chris Penn. (Reservoir Dogs was good, and he was good in it. That was, like, 1991)
Pleace,
Matt
JFK
JFK: SPECIAL EDITION
Well, I guess I'm on a movie binge.
K, JFK is a pretty good movie.
Aside from the talentless hack and Keanu Reeves precursor Kevin Cosner, the cast was great and did a great job.
The only faults of this picture are too many conspiracy theories splintered all over the place. They should have stuck to one idea. But, on the other hand, this may have been used to show the confusion and disarray surrounding this sad time in US history.
Either way, the film is up in the top 200 hundred movies ever made.
Probably around 196, but still, that's saying something.
I'd go through the plot, but I'm sick and I'm sure everyone knows the basic premise.
As for the actual idea that there was some sort of conspiracy, I will say this: if I'm to buy that the any level of government was involved and got away with it, it would tell me the idea that those same people are around and orchestrated 911 is a definite possibility. The military complex and big business may be running the government with the CIA as their personal bodyguards in their need to make sure peace is never found in our time and that war profiteering rules.
But, that may just be paranoid fantasy, and even if I had my mind open to it, there's not a lot I could do.
Unless, of course, I possessed 7th Level Dojo skills and could see through the hearts and minds of everyone, everywhere.
And we know there's a good possibility of that.
As far as the additional features, it's not really worthwhile. Like many special editions, the bonus material only reiterates the original movie and doesn't really take you any further.
So, I definitely recommend this movie. It will make you think about our current situation and remind you that questioning government and media is not insane, just not real healthy or worthwhile.
But, I kid.
Well, I guess I'm on a movie binge.
K, JFK is a pretty good movie.
Aside from the talentless hack and Keanu Reeves precursor Kevin Cosner, the cast was great and did a great job.
The only faults of this picture are too many conspiracy theories splintered all over the place. They should have stuck to one idea. But, on the other hand, this may have been used to show the confusion and disarray surrounding this sad time in US history.
Either way, the film is up in the top 200 hundred movies ever made.
Probably around 196, but still, that's saying something.
I'd go through the plot, but I'm sick and I'm sure everyone knows the basic premise.
As for the actual idea that there was some sort of conspiracy, I will say this: if I'm to buy that the any level of government was involved and got away with it, it would tell me the idea that those same people are around and orchestrated 911 is a definite possibility. The military complex and big business may be running the government with the CIA as their personal bodyguards in their need to make sure peace is never found in our time and that war profiteering rules.
But, that may just be paranoid fantasy, and even if I had my mind open to it, there's not a lot I could do.
Unless, of course, I possessed 7th Level Dojo skills and could see through the hearts and minds of everyone, everywhere.
And we know there's a good possibility of that.
As far as the additional features, it's not really worthwhile. Like many special editions, the bonus material only reiterates the original movie and doesn't really take you any further.
So, I definitely recommend this movie. It will make you think about our current situation and remind you that questioning government and media is not insane, just not real healthy or worthwhile.
But, I kid.
The Bangles
The Star Spangled Banner is Satanic and Perverted
It's true.
I will now list the lyrics in their entirety and prove to you that this song was written for the sole purpose of polluting our youth.
Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
The "dawn's early light?" That could be no other than Satan, commonly known as the "Morning Star."
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
"Gleaming" is a term used by skateboarders to describe gay sex with Christian Slater.
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
Giving a woman a "stripe" means ejaculating on her back. As for "bright stars" it means the dilation of pupils due to an ecstasy high.
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
This verse contains nothing profane, but was inserted to misguide vigilant Christians like myself.
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
This verse describes an orgasm.
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Take out the letter "L" in flag and you do the math.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
It is said that when Satan returns to the Earth he will bring forth a "banner" of peace, but will betray man with damnation.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Hell is described as a "free" land in which fornication and violent video games ravage men like syphilis.
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
"Mists of the deep" is common slang for an aroused vagina.
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
This can only mean the "host(s)" of hell.
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
It is said that Satan likes breezes.
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
This describes a homosexual coming out of the closet.
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
Again, a reference to Morning Star.
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
This is a reference to LSD's effect on the "stream" of consciousness.
'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave
Again, the banner of Satan.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
See above.
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
This line encourages our youth to swear and listen to deviant rap music.
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
Satan loves confusing the flock.
A home and a country should leave us no more?
This line is for the sole purpose of glorifying the "home" of hell.
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.
This line refers to the liberal left's need to put ecological restraints on good, Christian oil companies.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
This line refers to the enslaving of mankind under the banner of Satan.
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
This line, directly, refers to hell.
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
(Again)
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
(Again)
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Freemen rhymes with semen.
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
This line refers to the "desolation" of the soul after a life lived by sin.
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
This lines refers to the sinner's hope that heaven will rescue them after their life of adultery and consumption of organic foods.
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
This is a common prayer to Satan.
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,
"Just" rhymes with bust (glorification of the flesh).
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
Whose God? It certainly isn't our father Jesus Christ. Nowhere in this song is Christ's name mentioned. Then who could this "God" be?
And the star-spangled banner forever shall wave
(Again)
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
(Again)
So, the next time you're at a ball game think about this: your soul is in grave jeopardy.
Thank you.
God bless,
It's true.
I will now list the lyrics in their entirety and prove to you that this song was written for the sole purpose of polluting our youth.
Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
The "dawn's early light?" That could be no other than Satan, commonly known as the "Morning Star."
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
"Gleaming" is a term used by skateboarders to describe gay sex with Christian Slater.
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
Giving a woman a "stripe" means ejaculating on her back. As for "bright stars" it means the dilation of pupils due to an ecstasy high.
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
This verse contains nothing profane, but was inserted to misguide vigilant Christians like myself.
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
This verse describes an orgasm.
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Take out the letter "L" in flag and you do the math.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
It is said that when Satan returns to the Earth he will bring forth a "banner" of peace, but will betray man with damnation.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Hell is described as a "free" land in which fornication and violent video games ravage men like syphilis.
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
"Mists of the deep" is common slang for an aroused vagina.
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
This can only mean the "host(s)" of hell.
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
It is said that Satan likes breezes.
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
This describes a homosexual coming out of the closet.
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
Again, a reference to Morning Star.
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
This is a reference to LSD's effect on the "stream" of consciousness.
'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave
Again, the banner of Satan.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
See above.
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
This line encourages our youth to swear and listen to deviant rap music.
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
Satan loves confusing the flock.
A home and a country should leave us no more?
This line is for the sole purpose of glorifying the "home" of hell.
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.
This line refers to the liberal left's need to put ecological restraints on good, Christian oil companies.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
This line refers to the enslaving of mankind under the banner of Satan.
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
This line, directly, refers to hell.
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
(Again)
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
(Again)
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Freemen rhymes with semen.
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
This line refers to the "desolation" of the soul after a life lived by sin.
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
This lines refers to the sinner's hope that heaven will rescue them after their life of adultery and consumption of organic foods.
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
This is a common prayer to Satan.
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,
"Just" rhymes with bust (glorification of the flesh).
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
Whose God? It certainly isn't our father Jesus Christ. Nowhere in this song is Christ's name mentioned. Then who could this "God" be?
And the star-spangled banner forever shall wave
(Again)
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
(Again)
So, the next time you're at a ball game think about this: your soul is in grave jeopardy.
Thank you.
God bless,
Thursday, October 1, 2009
????? Nother old one
Talkin' Loud, Sayin' Nothin'
So, I guess some dogshit author conned the big O.
This ex-junky (renowned liars) had the gall, the sheer nerve to put one over on America's most self-righteous citizen since Eugene McCarthy.
Party foul.
So, Ope had the author on her show and came to tears when describing her outrage and betrayal.
Meanwhile, Tom Cruise is in a cult, a closet, and nuttier than a Snickers in Bellevue and he's greeted with open arms by Ope.
Surprise, surprise.
Oprah's job in life is to preach cookie cutter morals to America and America is to listen up good. Her morals are the same black and white prescriptions that everyone from Pat Robertson to Adolf Hitler have used to persuade the masses that they are good people.
Everyone in Ope's America is Black, White, or Other and her merit system runs in that order. Pretty much the closer you are to everything that Oprah is, the better you are.
And America loves this. Especially White American women. Like most whites, they feel the need to prove that they are not a racist, homophobe, or Nazi. What this comes off as is a group of people who mean well, but have become so knee-jerk liberals that can't order Chinese food without worrying that an ethnic slur is going to slip out of their mouths.
Day after day, Ope and Dr. Phil tell these women how stupid, weak, and white they are. How they should accept responsibility for all their sins and admit that they are WRONG. Not only that, but in admitting that they are WRONG, they must admit that Ope and Philly are RIGHT.
I never trust anyone without doubt. Doubt in others is your key to identifying them as someone with wisdom. Without doubt you can never understand clearly the world around you.
Ope and Philly are without doubt. They have a clear idea (mostly nonsense black and white policies on human behavior derived from years of after school specials) of what is RIGHT and what is WRONG.
Have you seen Ope or Philly take a second to pause and think about BOTH sides of an issue?
But, it's a bit much to lay this all down on these two shits. Ope is just playing out the role that wins: the politician. Everything that Ope says is part of a written code that reflects most Democratic beliefs.
This is why Democrats can't get a good candidate for president. They're running an old game play that doesn't work any longer. They're not thinking for themselves and reflecting any thought into the issues. This is why it pains me to vote Democrat.
Don't get me wrong, I certainly wouldn't go over to the Dark Side. But, it certainly would be nice to see a candidate that thinks for themselves and doesn't keep telling us shit we already know.
Which brings us back to Ope. Is anything she says relevant? How many shows will she have about how great celebrities are, how much we all need to lose weight, and how being homophobic is wrong?
Which brings me to the hypocrisy in the Ope: she stresses the need to accept others as they are, yet has been working her entire life to be something different. Meanwhile, she's telling women that if they aren't skinny super models, then they don't count; that they have somehow failed. Bullshit. Being overweight isn't like shooting junk for Christ's sakes. It's not all that healthy, but I doubt your average 20-some pound overweight chick is on her way to the morgue. It's up there with racism and eugenics. Oprah has done more to make overweight people feel like shit than your typical classroom bully. And, it leads to the fact that weight is Oprah's biggest struggle. Like the self hating Jew, or the homosexual Republican, Oprah hates overweight people, because she's struggled with it.
It's all the same shit. Why doesn't she do a show that challengers her viewers? Like, maybe a show on how deep down everyone hates everyone at times for shallow reasons and that we'll never learn to get along until we admit that we're all only human. That would be grand. She could bring in the Nation of Islam and the Neo Nazis and instead of pointing some self-righteous finger at them, she'd give them a hug and forgive them like some sort of Christ.
"Hey, you dirty racists, I understand: I used to hate Eskimos. That was until I learned that my hatred doesn't make me inherently evil, it makes me human. Once I learned that, I learned to feel better about myself. And then I learned to love…and to love Eskimos."
That would be great. That would make us think.
Or she could do a show about how celebrities are actual humans. Like have Tom Cruise on for an hour taking a dump, picking his nose, and making some Kraft macaroni and cheese.
But, instead, next week she'll have Steve Martin on the show where she'll talk about how wrong it is to commit murder. She'll end the show by declaring herself murder free and how everyone should learn to stop murdering others and take control of their lives. The audience will clap like trained seals and decide that this "don't murder people" thing is a revelation.
Or, she'll be cooking the bestest lasagna recipe from Emril.
Either way, Oprah blows.
So, I guess some dogshit author conned the big O.
This ex-junky (renowned liars) had the gall, the sheer nerve to put one over on America's most self-righteous citizen since Eugene McCarthy.
Party foul.
So, Ope had the author on her show and came to tears when describing her outrage and betrayal.
Meanwhile, Tom Cruise is in a cult, a closet, and nuttier than a Snickers in Bellevue and he's greeted with open arms by Ope.
Surprise, surprise.
Oprah's job in life is to preach cookie cutter morals to America and America is to listen up good. Her morals are the same black and white prescriptions that everyone from Pat Robertson to Adolf Hitler have used to persuade the masses that they are good people.
Everyone in Ope's America is Black, White, or Other and her merit system runs in that order. Pretty much the closer you are to everything that Oprah is, the better you are.
And America loves this. Especially White American women. Like most whites, they feel the need to prove that they are not a racist, homophobe, or Nazi. What this comes off as is a group of people who mean well, but have become so knee-jerk liberals that can't order Chinese food without worrying that an ethnic slur is going to slip out of their mouths.
Day after day, Ope and Dr. Phil tell these women how stupid, weak, and white they are. How they should accept responsibility for all their sins and admit that they are WRONG. Not only that, but in admitting that they are WRONG, they must admit that Ope and Philly are RIGHT.
I never trust anyone without doubt. Doubt in others is your key to identifying them as someone with wisdom. Without doubt you can never understand clearly the world around you.
Ope and Philly are without doubt. They have a clear idea (mostly nonsense black and white policies on human behavior derived from years of after school specials) of what is RIGHT and what is WRONG.
Have you seen Ope or Philly take a second to pause and think about BOTH sides of an issue?
But, it's a bit much to lay this all down on these two shits. Ope is just playing out the role that wins: the politician. Everything that Ope says is part of a written code that reflects most Democratic beliefs.
This is why Democrats can't get a good candidate for president. They're running an old game play that doesn't work any longer. They're not thinking for themselves and reflecting any thought into the issues. This is why it pains me to vote Democrat.
Don't get me wrong, I certainly wouldn't go over to the Dark Side. But, it certainly would be nice to see a candidate that thinks for themselves and doesn't keep telling us shit we already know.
Which brings us back to Ope. Is anything she says relevant? How many shows will she have about how great celebrities are, how much we all need to lose weight, and how being homophobic is wrong?
Which brings me to the hypocrisy in the Ope: she stresses the need to accept others as they are, yet has been working her entire life to be something different. Meanwhile, she's telling women that if they aren't skinny super models, then they don't count; that they have somehow failed. Bullshit. Being overweight isn't like shooting junk for Christ's sakes. It's not all that healthy, but I doubt your average 20-some pound overweight chick is on her way to the morgue. It's up there with racism and eugenics. Oprah has done more to make overweight people feel like shit than your typical classroom bully. And, it leads to the fact that weight is Oprah's biggest struggle. Like the self hating Jew, or the homosexual Republican, Oprah hates overweight people, because she's struggled with it.
It's all the same shit. Why doesn't she do a show that challengers her viewers? Like, maybe a show on how deep down everyone hates everyone at times for shallow reasons and that we'll never learn to get along until we admit that we're all only human. That would be grand. She could bring in the Nation of Islam and the Neo Nazis and instead of pointing some self-righteous finger at them, she'd give them a hug and forgive them like some sort of Christ.
"Hey, you dirty racists, I understand: I used to hate Eskimos. That was until I learned that my hatred doesn't make me inherently evil, it makes me human. Once I learned that, I learned to feel better about myself. And then I learned to love…and to love Eskimos."
That would be great. That would make us think.
Or she could do a show about how celebrities are actual humans. Like have Tom Cruise on for an hour taking a dump, picking his nose, and making some Kraft macaroni and cheese.
But, instead, next week she'll have Steve Martin on the show where she'll talk about how wrong it is to commit murder. She'll end the show by declaring herself murder free and how everyone should learn to stop murdering others and take control of their lives. The audience will clap like trained seals and decide that this "don't murder people" thing is a revelation.
Or, she'll be cooking the bestest lasagna recipe from Emril.
Either way, Oprah blows.
Old diary
Some Things to Think About
(A weekend report)
On Friday, the drinking started late. Like 8.30. Lisa dropped over and we decided to go to Ozzie's, a popular shit hole up the street. I was in the mood for pull tabs and city scum and Ozzie's the manifest destiny of redneck gambling.
No, even I have no idea what that means.
But, Ozzie's was packt with drunks and angry homeless people full of graft and Graf.
Ozzie's was a bad idea anyway. The last time I was in their I almost got in a fight…on a Monday.
So, we headed uphill to a bar I can't remember the name of. They had a blue grass band and it was a lot of fun. The bartender looked like that one puke from Dawson's Creek. I made the mistake of drinking Redbull and Vodka with Jager back. I don't know why I did this. I don’t know why Jager has been tasting good lately.
Jager: The drink of the college freshman. Rumored to be made from the blood of Dee Schnider and Noam Chomsky. I went through a spell (1997 – 1998) where I would drink it a lot. Then one night, I got liquored on it and ended up in Josh's car doing shots and listening to Radiohead. I left quarter-sized Jager circles all over his dashboard with the shot glass. Later, I put a puddle of puke in his car door panel as a final salt in the eye. The next morning my mouth tasted like Lucifer's toenails and I swore off the evil baboon juice.
But, now, I've become fond of it once again.
I'm destined for ruin.
Later, we went to Beth's (home of the 12 egg omelet) where I ordered a 6 egger and ate a quarter of it as I drew Lisa eating her hashbrowns with crayons. I went home with the hiccups.
Shaturday I woke up, tried to swallow a multivitamin and nearly puked. The rest of the morning was spent watching Mother Night and eating a goat cheese sandwich. Lisa bet me that an orange she bought tasted like no other orange and would change my life.
I ended up getting a buck from her.
Later, I walked up to Pike Place Market and bought:
Syrup for Lisa's dad
A mixed bag of incense, because I smoke in my apartment
Two tomatoes for nachos
5 cobs of corn for a BBQ the next day
Things I tried to buy, but couldn't for various reasons:
Fresh donuts: the line is always too fucking long and I hate crowds to begin with
Baklava or Turkish Delight: Lisa raves about this Turkish joint, but first I could remember which she wanted, then the lady behind the counter completely ignored me
In the evening I met Scott, Shanna, Josh and Monica at Gordon Biersch. I had the pizza. It was delicious. Our waiter was a fuckface. Fuckface tried to make funny with us and had the annoying trait of saying "Excellent" after everything we ordered. According to Scott he was staring at Shanna and Lisa's tits the whole time as well. But, the funniest thing was Scott's dinner. He ordered steak and mashed potatoes and within the mashed potatoes was a whole russet potato. It was odd.
Whenever I try to spell potato I end up Dan Qualing it.
Good old Dan, he enjoyed potatoes as much as the next guy and his blind moral umbilical to televangelists should have been the final straw that took him down. But, no, it was his stupidity. It's hard to believe he was once Vice President. As I'm writing this now, I feel the urge to Google it and make sure. But I'm lazy. No, Dan was definitely not the stupidest man to ever sit in the White House. That honor goes to the many people with Downs Syndrome that have visited and our current S.S. heavy George W. Bush. Christ, can nothing ruin this man? Will there be a final stupidity straw with W.? His State of the Union is coming up and it's focus will be energy. This on the heels of a report that gas prices will soon go from 60 a barrel to 260. That's no joke, people. Not only that, but Exxon seems to have broke the record for profits by any company, anywhere, ever. But, the cheap vaudeville performed by W. will reassure the conservative sheep that a Flintstone car will revolutionize the way we travel and lower obesity in young people. A rally, outside the ABC affiliate in Seattle, is scheduled for Tuesday. I would normally applaud this, but it's probably going to fuck up traffic. I imagine the street I live on will be swarming with National Guard and Young Republicans all aiming to stop the abuse of democracy that will be questioning the puppet beast, George W. Bush.
But, politics are for people who spell and do simple math. I'm not one of those people. I, like our President, think with my heart, and with the way I treat my heart (drinking, smoking, cholesterol), I'm sure I can't even think that well using..she? Him? What day is it?
Later in the evening we went to Von's for a few more drinks and then called it a night.
Sunday I helped Brad paint his bathroom. This part of the weekend sucked.
Moving right along, later I went to my Mom's where I had the bright idea of BBQing in 37 degree, rainy cold. It took two attempts and an hour to cook anything. My mom had the boil the hotdogs. I was in a bad mood and went home.
There's been a large buzz about the program Lost. I can't follow TV, so I only watch it once it comes out on DVD. So, I'll have a review of what I'm told is a great program soon.
Well, it's time to pretend I'm working.
God bust,
Matt
(A weekend report)
On Friday, the drinking started late. Like 8.30. Lisa dropped over and we decided to go to Ozzie's, a popular shit hole up the street. I was in the mood for pull tabs and city scum and Ozzie's the manifest destiny of redneck gambling.
No, even I have no idea what that means.
But, Ozzie's was packt with drunks and angry homeless people full of graft and Graf.
Ozzie's was a bad idea anyway. The last time I was in their I almost got in a fight…on a Monday.
So, we headed uphill to a bar I can't remember the name of. They had a blue grass band and it was a lot of fun. The bartender looked like that one puke from Dawson's Creek. I made the mistake of drinking Redbull and Vodka with Jager back. I don't know why I did this. I don’t know why Jager has been tasting good lately.
Jager: The drink of the college freshman. Rumored to be made from the blood of Dee Schnider and Noam Chomsky. I went through a spell (1997 – 1998) where I would drink it a lot. Then one night, I got liquored on it and ended up in Josh's car doing shots and listening to Radiohead. I left quarter-sized Jager circles all over his dashboard with the shot glass. Later, I put a puddle of puke in his car door panel as a final salt in the eye. The next morning my mouth tasted like Lucifer's toenails and I swore off the evil baboon juice.
But, now, I've become fond of it once again.
I'm destined for ruin.
Later, we went to Beth's (home of the 12 egg omelet) where I ordered a 6 egger and ate a quarter of it as I drew Lisa eating her hashbrowns with crayons. I went home with the hiccups.
Shaturday I woke up, tried to swallow a multivitamin and nearly puked. The rest of the morning was spent watching Mother Night and eating a goat cheese sandwich. Lisa bet me that an orange she bought tasted like no other orange and would change my life.
I ended up getting a buck from her.
Later, I walked up to Pike Place Market and bought:
Syrup for Lisa's dad
A mixed bag of incense, because I smoke in my apartment
Two tomatoes for nachos
5 cobs of corn for a BBQ the next day
Things I tried to buy, but couldn't for various reasons:
Fresh donuts: the line is always too fucking long and I hate crowds to begin with
Baklava or Turkish Delight: Lisa raves about this Turkish joint, but first I could remember which she wanted, then the lady behind the counter completely ignored me
In the evening I met Scott, Shanna, Josh and Monica at Gordon Biersch. I had the pizza. It was delicious. Our waiter was a fuckface. Fuckface tried to make funny with us and had the annoying trait of saying "Excellent" after everything we ordered. According to Scott he was staring at Shanna and Lisa's tits the whole time as well. But, the funniest thing was Scott's dinner. He ordered steak and mashed potatoes and within the mashed potatoes was a whole russet potato. It was odd.
Whenever I try to spell potato I end up Dan Qualing it.
Good old Dan, he enjoyed potatoes as much as the next guy and his blind moral umbilical to televangelists should have been the final straw that took him down. But, no, it was his stupidity. It's hard to believe he was once Vice President. As I'm writing this now, I feel the urge to Google it and make sure. But I'm lazy. No, Dan was definitely not the stupidest man to ever sit in the White House. That honor goes to the many people with Downs Syndrome that have visited and our current S.S. heavy George W. Bush. Christ, can nothing ruin this man? Will there be a final stupidity straw with W.? His State of the Union is coming up and it's focus will be energy. This on the heels of a report that gas prices will soon go from 60 a barrel to 260. That's no joke, people. Not only that, but Exxon seems to have broke the record for profits by any company, anywhere, ever. But, the cheap vaudeville performed by W. will reassure the conservative sheep that a Flintstone car will revolutionize the way we travel and lower obesity in young people. A rally, outside the ABC affiliate in Seattle, is scheduled for Tuesday. I would normally applaud this, but it's probably going to fuck up traffic. I imagine the street I live on will be swarming with National Guard and Young Republicans all aiming to stop the abuse of democracy that will be questioning the puppet beast, George W. Bush.
But, politics are for people who spell and do simple math. I'm not one of those people. I, like our President, think with my heart, and with the way I treat my heart (drinking, smoking, cholesterol), I'm sure I can't even think that well using..she? Him? What day is it?
Later in the evening we went to Von's for a few more drinks and then called it a night.
Sunday I helped Brad paint his bathroom. This part of the weekend sucked.
Moving right along, later I went to my Mom's where I had the bright idea of BBQing in 37 degree, rainy cold. It took two attempts and an hour to cook anything. My mom had the boil the hotdogs. I was in a bad mood and went home.
There's been a large buzz about the program Lost. I can't follow TV, so I only watch it once it comes out on DVD. So, I'll have a review of what I'm told is a great program soon.
Well, it's time to pretend I'm working.
God bust,
Matt
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