Senseful ramblings of an incoherent nature from a delusional schizophrenic (or my views on current events)

Sunday, May 29, 2005

The Evil, Evil Devil must go!

This is the actual kind of bullshit that slows the government down, and gives senseless morons like this Craig Stanely a platform to stand on:

Devil's Hot over Proposal to Change Name

Can someone please tell me why this guy got elected? Can someone please take away his ability to communicate, because he is wasting tax payers dollars to quable over the name of an NHL franchise, which like all other NHL franchise, arent even playing right now, and havent for a year because of a stupid lockout!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, this is what their mascot looks like:

Wwwwwwooooooo, terrifying!

And here he is with some very special students!

As you can see by the looks on their faces, they are scared silly. Oh wait... nevermind.... Bad example....

Here he is with an Indian child.

Clearly if he can get along with the people who worship the cow he has proven that he can get along with legislators!

Here's my message, Craig, stop being a religious douchebag who is fucking up the world for the rest of us who dont care. Do choking victims try to get the smurfs off the air simply because they are blue? Of course not! And why? Because it isnt fair for the rest of us who arent choking to have to suffer through a world with no smurfs!


Thursday, May 26, 2005

Blow Me

For the past few months I have been using post-it notes to keep track of all the things I think about during the course of the day. Some of them are just ideas, others are lists of things that I need to do or buy, and others are things that I think. The following are some of these things that I think about on a daily basis. Now I am not going to go in-depth on any of these items, they are small and inconsequential. I dont touch on religion or politics (ok, maybe a little politics) because I have covered those issues before in their own dedicated posts, and I am sure that I will again. And just so you know, this will be a recurring part of this silly little blog as every few months I will have more post-its cluttering my desk. WARNING: THE C WORD IS USED, more than once. Here goes...

I think:

...that if you are drunk on the second level of a bar and pour your drink over the ledge on some unsuspecting individual below you only to yell down, "you shouldnt have be standing there," while pointing and laughing, well, you are one funny mother fucker. would be cool to be a Giant Tortoise who's only concern is keeping out of the sun and humping female giant tortoise’s, thus fulfilling your parental requirements for the life of your offspring.

...that if you are eating at a restaurant with an anorexic chef, you are dinning at the wrong place, that is, unless you are vegan.

...that anyone who puts a decal on their car for ITT Chubb, University of Phoenix, or any other of those skill types of colleges deserves to be smashed in the face.

...I hate dramatic reenactments on television shows. Either have some real clips or find some pictures, the last thing I need to watch is some dumb fuck who couldnt get a real tv job try to reenact some important world event. Nothing makes me turn off a program quicker.

...I am upset about not being alive for the first 12 super bowls! Damn you parents!

...everyone should join with me in calling Beyonce, Buoyancy.

...OJ did it. did Robert Blake.

...Michael Jackson should go to jail, but he wont.

...I wish Michael Jackson molested me;)

…by waving to every cop I see that I wont get pulled over for anything I do, simply because of Karma. (just so you know, I DO do this)

...I hate the word moneys. Just use the word money for fucks sake!

...I hate the name Chas or Chaz, however you spell it. If your name is Charles, I am calling you Charles, and that is the end of it. If you make me call you Chaz, every time I say it I get to punch you in the face.

...the word chincy is hilarious. favorite derogatory word, one which I dont know the meaning, is hooplehead. favorite derogatory word which I do know what it means is cocksucker, followed closely by fuck, and then cunt. And if you are a woman who has a problem with the word cunt, then you yourself is a cunt. And if you have a problem with me calling you a cunt, do something about it, cunt!

...the words rummage and sale should never be put together. Why not just advertise that you are making people pay to go through your shitty garbage.

...there isnt a better bad guy on TV today than Ian McShane's Al Swearingin on HBO's Deadwood. He is the perfect man to tie a damsel to some train tracks.

...I am the only person who sees a nun and thinks, "Mmm, virgin."

...I hate people who step on their brakes while approaching a green light at an interchange. We could all only be so lucky that this individual has their feet mixed up so much that they step on the gas at a red light, thus setting up a perfect T-boning.

...we as a nation have forgotten too much of what we "learned" from 9/11.

...the government has gotten away from serving the people and moved towards directing them.

...there will be a time in humanities future where we as humans will look back and how we acted towards sex, politics, drugs, and humanity itself and laugh whilst shaking our collective head, wondering what the fuck we were thinking.'s parents need to raise their children better. If your cock-strong enough to carry a loaded gun, be sure you are ready to deal with the consequences.

...that this is over, for now.

Sunday, May 22, 2005


Lets quickly go over the many ways I have bloodied my hand:

1. Scraped right index finger knuckle so often and badly that the last time I did it I was able to see bone, while playing a jewish game called gaga, during summer camp, 1991. Permanent scar.

2. Spooned my right palm between my thumb and index finger while scooping mint chocolate chip, Breyers ice cream. Thats right, I cut myself with a spoon, and nearly severed a tendon, but thankfully didnt. It was a bloody mess and my super intelligent father said that in order to help the blood coagulate that I should crack an egg, mix it up and stick my hand in it. When I got to the hospital I was nearly laughed out of the ER. I still give my father shit about that! This happened the day before my last final, freshman year of high school, two days before leaving for Puerto Rico, where I had to swim in the ocean with a latex glove and plastic bag over my hand, talk about stylin' (1992). Permanent scar.

3. Repeated helmet impacts to the back side of my right hand, first causing a bruise, then a bump, which turned into a bump so big that the skin broke. Ah football, gotta love it. Senior year of Lower Merion High School, football (1994)(during this season I almost nearly ripped my pinky finger off at the knuckle while reaching for a hand off and getting the tip of my pinky caught in the QBs face mask. Naturally I didnt see the trainer about it and my pinky knuckle is very large). Permanent dent.

4. Repeated helmet impacts to the back side of my left hand. See number three. Freshman, Sophomore, and Junior years of the University of Pennsylvania, football (1995-1997). Permanent scars and one dent, hand and thumb.

5. Hot Clam Chowder burn to the back side of my left hand. Heated up clam chowder in the microwave, took clam chowder out of the microwave. Potato in clam chowder was so hot that it exploded, landing on my hand. Burnt area puffed up, eventually popped and, well, the rest was a yucky mess. Spring, 2004. Permanent scar.

6. Screwdriver to the left middle finger, taking out a fairly significant chunk of skin, while attempting to screw a, uh, screw through some fairly tough plastic. Screw slipped, screwdriver drove downward, chunk of finger skin hanging off, yum. May 21, 2005. Potential permanent scar.

And now the ways that I havent bloodied my hands:

1. Knife

2. Any other kind of purposely made to cut sharp item.

Hey, at least I keep my injuries interesting

Friday, May 20, 2005

Pee Pee?

Can someone please explain the significance of the four year old boy who is standing outside my office doorway, holding his penis and making grunting noices, while bending forward, slightly, at the hips? Need I say that his parents are no where to be found? I feel like I should offer him some jesus juice.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Two quick thoughts

1. Men who tightly cross their legs, similar to how women cross their legs, how do they do that? Some are able to cross their legs so tightly that one calf touches the other. The only way I am able to cross my legs is by putting my ankle on my knee. Anything else and the good ole' cock and balls gets in the way.

2. A flesh eating disease would be horrible. The only thing, in my mind at least, that could be worse would be a flesh eating disease taking up residence on ones penis. The sad thing is that I am sure some poor sap out there has had to deal with that! I think I would rather run with the bulls and risk getting a horn thrust through my anus that have to sit there and watch as my penis skin rotted away before my eyes! Id probably end up blaming my parents for getting me circumsised: "See, I could have used that protective layer of skin!"

Yesterday's republican thoughts have been replaced by today's fascination with all things penis. I guess I am trying to say that today I am gay. I dont think a colonic would help me out, at least not in the way that it would have yesterday. It could make getting a date easier, ya know, if I really was gay;)

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Hypocracy of Youth

As I ride home every day I usually pass the same cars day in and day out. There is one car, and its occupant, who really annoys me although he isnt a bad driver and always follows the traffic laws. The driver is a college aged kid who drives a beat up, early 90s style, white Volkswagen Passat wagon. What annoys me me is the two window stickers he has showing out of his back window.

One exclaims "Osama <3 your SUV." Now while the message itself is annoying, the grammar of the message is what really pisses me off. I dont have a problem with him saying that SUV's take up more gas, and that because Osama comes from an oil rich family that he is getting some of that money, because for all I know that might be true, but goddamnit, why cant you have an apostrophy followed by an S after the <3. Your sticker isnt advertising a movie about the Huckabee's, your making a political statement. If you want me to take you and your statement seriously, at least make an effort to be grammatically correct!

The other sticker is white with a drawing of broccoli and it says, "Buy Fresh, Buy Local." I am all for supporting your local farmers, but what if what you want isnt grown locally? And honestly there arent that many farms around Philly in the first place. And if you are all about supporting your local economy lets start with yourself Mr. German-Car-Driver. Vegetables and how much one pays for them pales in comparisson to the cost you pay for a car, think about how many jobs you are costing by driving around that beat-up German POS, cocksucker!

Hmm, I am feeling awfully republican today. That isnt a good thing. I need a colonic to clean myself out of those bad republican feelings. Anyone wanna help me stick the tube up my ass?

Monday, May 16, 2005

Just when you thought I didnt have a heart

Friday evening I was driving to the Super Fresh to purchase some food to eat (as is usually the case when driving to a super market). To get to the super fresh I had to make a left hand turn across some train tracks and usually there is a homeless gentleman standing there (or lounging I suppose) begging for money. This was not the case however, as this time a woman was standing in his place.

Her hair was pulled back real tight and she made two little nubs on the back corners of her scalp, forming what looked like two lil bear ears. She had baggy eyes, quite similar to Droopy Dog of Loony Tunes fame, a tiny little button nose, and thin lips. Her chin was non-existent. She wore nothing but a tattered flowery patterned sundress to cover her leathery skin, although she couldnt have been more than 35 years old. I can only hope she had underwear on, however I wouldnt be surprised if she didnt. Her breasts could only be described as mosquito bites, but they fit with the rest of the package.

As she stood there she held a sign claiming that she was stranded and needed help. I can only surmise that miss partied-too-hard-in-the-90s was tossed out of a moving car and needed to get back home to West Virginia before her brother-husband, the one who did the tossing, got real angry and wed her younger sister-daughter. Being the gentleman that I am, I slowly lowered my window, extended my arm and said, "there's a strip club, go get a job," while pointing across the street.

Unfortunately I dont have an end to this story, although she was not there the next day, leading me to assume that she took my advise, got a one night gig, and made enough money to un-strand herself. That or she ended up dead in a ditch. Either way, someone helped her out. Yeesh...

The confusion over the day-time emmy's

Can someone please explain to me why the day-time Emmy’s are shown during the primetime hours? That makes absolutely no sense to me what-so-ever! Shouldnt they be shown during the day-time, so the milkmaids who make those shows matter can watch? Obviously those ladies are going to be busy making dinner, taking care of the kids and servicing their men (or bull dyke as the case may be) at night! Come on network television people, get your act together!

Furthermore, do we really need day-time Emmy’s? Does Oprah really deserve, or need for that matter, more ridiculous accolades? And honestly, soap actors and actresses are just a step away from porn actors and actresses (not that there is anything wrong with porn), cant we just not honor them? Or at the very least thrown their awards in with the AVN's: "Coming up on the AVN's, best female lead in a soap series followed by best anal double penetration." At least then I would watch!

And if you do disagree with me and think that there is a need for the day-time Emmy’s, can you at least agree with me that the name itself is utterly unimaginative. Lets come up with something a little more original than the day-time Emmy’s. I mean that is almost as bad as the Latin (or is it Latino?) Grammy's (I guess calling it the Lammy's wasnt a good idea?). At least the rednecks called their musical award show the Country Music Awards as opposed to the Country Grammy. So I suggest that from now on we refer to the day-time Emmy’s as the either the Daup's, the Daytime Award for Unoriginal Programming, or the Tafaw's, the Television Awards for Fat American Wives.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

And Ill take your's too if your not careful!

As always, I was sitting in my office minding my own business at around 3PM today. There is a high school across the street from my building, so every now and then some high schoolers come over to my building to hang out in the hallway outside of my office. This is most unfortunate for me because I am the only person on my side of the building, so despite requests for them to quiet down, most dont really care. I have learned to ignore them and their childish noises, although today I was brought into their world, and I completely rocked it for one of them.

Ah yes, 3 o'clock and the high schoolers come to play. There were about 6 of them today, all female save one. Their leader was the smallest of the pack, yet verbally kept the rest in check. She was about 15 years old with the most alabaster skin I have seen in a while. Her hair was as dark as night yet she had the bluest of eyes. You could tell she was still fairly young because her teeth were still too big for her head, although her silvery braces might have added some size. She wore a fire engine red tank top and black pants that were nearly parachute pants, but thankfully not that big. He fingers were hidden by rings nearly too big for her tiny fingers. She had the others rolling on the floor with her humor and apparently didnt stop at any topic.

Her attention soon turned towards me. She quietly began to whisper in my direction, calling me names that I couldnt decipher. I ignored her and her friends feigned attempts at covering up their own laughter, but her whispers got louder and louder until I finally heard what she was calling me: "Rapist."

Now I am not easily set off, not any more at least, but being called a rapist is a horrible thing, and certainly not something to joke about. I turned my head in her direction and stared at her dead in the eyes. She smiled enough so that light reflected off of her braces. I then said, "Do you think that is funny? Do you all think that is funny? Rape is something to joke about?" She demurely shrugged to the right and looked towards one of her friends. I continued, "My sister was raped and murdered, how funny is it now?"

And that is when it happened. She turned her head back towards me, her eyes began to water and she gulped hard. It was at that very moment that I stole her sense of humor. I was it leave her body as her face turned whiter than it already was and her smile turned right upside down into a frown. Her shoulders slouched and her stomach quickly inhaled and exhaled as she began to breath faster. If she was standing she would have toppled over. I am such a dick.

Her and her friends remained there for a little while longer, but not one of them said a word. That was the piece and quiet I needed to finish up another thrilling day at work.

Now of course my sister was never raped and to my knowledge she is very much alive, at least I hope so since I spoke with her earlier today, but Ms. Alabaster Skin doesnt know that, and she never will! Yes, I am an asshole, I never claimed to be anything other than that, but if you think you are going to try to make me the butt of your jokes you got another thing coming. Be forewarned, I will steal your humor just as quickly as I did hers!

Wednesday, May 11, 2005


What if how we believe the Earth works is completely backwards? Who is to say that The North Pole isnt actually the South Pole, that the rotation of the Earth isnt counter-clockwise and that its orbit around the sun is counter-clockwise as well?

That makes me wonder if there are other galaxies that spin in the opposite direction of ours? Would that mean that, in relation to the Earth, that they would be going backwards in time? Although, it would be forwards to them, just backwards to us. Unless of course, as I stated above, we are the ones that are going backwards.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Great Porn Names of the 70s and 80s?

What happened to all of the great porn names of the 70s and 80s? Gone are the names similar to Barbara Ballbanger and Harry Dickbag. We no longer have names like Mary Titsnass or Bob Inforcock. Why not? Why have todays porn actresses decided to either use their real name or some name like Brittany or Destiny or Star, names usually associated with stripping, not fucking! We still have the cute names for the movies, like Forrest Hump or Apollo 13 Inches, why must we deal with unoriginal names?

And speaking of cock, in the animal kingdom all male animals have always looked to find a place to stick their dicks. Usually any warm, wet hole, weither it be a vaginal, asshole, or damp log as the case may be, would suffice. It has been drilled into out collective heads that humans are part of the animal kingdom, so isnt it natural that we, as animals, look to stick out pricks in any warm wet hole? And why is it that we scorn some guy who prefers sticking his dick in an asshole over a pussy, weither it be a female or male asshole? Hell, we dont look down upon those that stick their cocks in pocket pussies, and lets be honest, that isnt that far off from a damp log.

I suppose my point is that if you have a dick, stick it in whatever you want to stick it in, as long as that thing you are sticking it in is receptive to your cock! An unreceptive whole can only lead you to bad things, and potentially a court date, which would then lead to jail time, and we all know what road that lead you down - then your warm, damp holes will be used as prison dick recepticles. Yikes!

Amanda Sucknfuck, Peter Hardcock, Georgia Sticksitin, we miss you all!

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Why Won't Someone Intervent Me?

I can admit it, I am addicted to some things and I need help. The only problem is that I am not addicted enough to one thing, I am addicted a little bit to a few things. Does that leave me out in the cold when it comes to an intervention? What would my family and friends choose to confront me with?

"Son, your addiction to Mountain Dew has really hurt the family. You spend all your time sipping the sappy yellow goodness just to get your caffeine high. You’re not only hurting yourself, but you are hurting all of us too. Do you realize how much money you could save if you just drank water?"

Sounds like my dad has a pee fetish, doesnt it? But that pales in comparison to the fetish that my doctor has. I found out what he "likes" because my sister works in a book store and he didnt recognize her at the cash register whilst he was making his purchase. Unfortunately I cant tell you what he is into because that would break the Hippocratic Oath of patient/doctor relations;)

Hmm, I suppose that my addiction to mountain dew is the only addiction that I want to bring up right now. I guess I am just not ready to delve into my own psychosis to figure out my problems. PEOPLE, I AM CRYING OUT FOR HELP! It is as if I am Macaulay Caulkin's character in "The Good Son," hanging off that cliff screaming for a hand to save my life, yet my best friend's mother just cant reach me and I am about to plummet to my rocky death.

Can't you see the pain in my life?

I weep....