Monthly Archives: August 2012

You May Take The Day Off

…and surf elsewhere because I’m too lazy to blog right now. I burned all my energy butchering chickens and it’s nap time for me.  I suppose my muscles will ache less knowing it was a worse day for the chickens … Continue reading

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Marketers Assure Me…

…that love is what makes a Subaru. Really? I prefer vehicles made out of metal. It’s a shame because a Subaru made of metal might appeal to me but one made of love smells like bullshit. Moreover I’m wearing deodorant … Continue reading

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Wal-Mart Bingo

I invented Obamacare Bingo(1) but this is even better! As always you should Listen to Uncle Jay. (1) No you may not see the Obamacare bingo cards.  You’ll just have to live through it.

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Two Wheeled Sonic Rationalization

I hate rationalization. If you want loud pipes have at it. (Though keeping them quieter than a screeching chainsaw being raped by a mutant amplified bagpipe would show a hint of good character.) Quit trying to come up with some bullshit safety based pretzel logic to explain that you installed “bitchin’ loud thunder pipes” for safety. Nobody on planet earth is fooled by your dumbass rationalizations so just quit pretending. Enjoy loud pipes because it’s fun to be obnoxiously loud. How hard is that? Continue reading

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Aside From Crushed Cars I Noticed…

…something odd about this post: Angry Vermont farmer crushes 7 police cruisers with tractor “…Orleans County sheriff’s deputies didn’t know what was happening in their parking lot until a neighbor called 911. A man on a big farm tractor, angry … Continue reading

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Word for the day: Covetous Assholism

Covetous Assholism – (noun) The mistaken belief that you can claim moral superiority over another person if they have more money than you do. Especially if they’re very rich and you wish to redistribute their money to someone who is poor. Continue reading

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Political Sandwich

Given the choice, there are places I’d rather visit than Chicago. For example, Chernobyl or Marquis De Sade’s basement. Sadly, I was forced to travel through Chicago; or as I like to call it Modor in the Midwest. Continue reading

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