Friday, July 30, 2010

I'm Damn Sick of Hearing About Another Damn Angel in Heaven

I wish I had had the privilege to meet her because I am sure that she would have been an amazing friend. May you rest in peace Kelly. We may have lost but the heavens have surely gained another Angel!

Please, if you're going to add a message of condolence to a damn online memorial guestbook, take the time to write something original! Jesus fucking H.

And if I die on the way home tonight, you motherfuckers HAD BETTER FUCKING NOT put that fucking angel shit in my guestbook! Put something honest like: She was depressed for most of her life, and I know she is greatly relieved to be dead finally. Bitch liked to sleep (and didn't like to work EVER), so now she can do that shit full time.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Quote of the Damn Day: Richard Hell

My feeling is that most of the problems of history have been caused by people who are sure they know how other people should act.

[SB's feeling is that Richard Hell is pretty damn smart.]

Bitch Is Sane If You Ask Me

From an old newspaper article discussing a woman committed to the infamous Dunning Asylum:

Catherine T. is 56, and has been a terror to her family for seventeen years, or since the birth of her last child. Her doctor testified that she was something like a wild cat, when he was called in to see her; has been ill for six months, her husband thinking at first it was temper from her scolding so much. "All the same," she interrupted, "I have cooked and washed all along for the whole family, and I wish I was dead." But this is not necessary, for her way is paid to Dunning, over which preside very womanly and scientific women, who will soon have her in a convalescent condition, and in a mood grateful for the privilege of living [and serving her Lord and Master, her dickhead husband].

The part in brackets is written by my ass, if you couldn't figure that shit out.

More Shit SB Says

Right after the honeymoon, a woman packs away the sexy underwear and unpacks the granny panties. Beware motherfucker! You have been warned. There is an expiration date on sexy.

Shit SB Says

It's good to be bisexual. It doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night.

I Want to Live in Jo Wood's House

If this shit isn't fucking enchanting, then I don't know what.

My Favorite Show (Along with Californication)

I hate when people go on and on about their favorite TV series (my bitchin' eyeballs start to glaze), so now my ass is going to do exactly that. SB is exempt from the shit that applies to other people!

Rescue Me is highly recommended. Two dicks up! The writing is so clever, it makes my ass envious. Tommy Gavin (played by co-writer Denis Leary) may be my all-time favorite TV character. Fucker is a damn mess and I dig him. We women want to fix hot messes (note that shit, men!). As a side note, Leary may have the greatest hair in the history of man. This shit is important, people!

I'm not Roger Ebert, so I'm not going to give you a damn synopsis of the show. Just watch that shit.

Note: You may have to watch a few episodes of the show to catch on, but hang in. It's SO worth it. I didn't start watching until the third season. I'm really glad I did. It has changed my WHOLE ENTIRE life. Well, not really.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Uhhhhmmmm, Okay

My Gang Stalking still continues, some days it’s all that I can do not to wish the snitches away, but that would mean wishing pretty much all people away. (I am ok with that.) I like my alone time. I love my privacy, to have that taken away has been a real violation. I don’t mind my privacy invaded by people who have my best interest at heart, but I do mind my privacy being invaded by those who do not. In fact I mind it a great deal most of the time, but sometimes there is not much you can do.

So what have I been thinking about? Sometimes I feel like the whole world already knows and I hate that, because my thoughts are private, and anyone who cares about me would respect that. I don’t care if a few close people know my thoughts, but not the whole world.

Even MORE Shit SB Says

Even the Catholics don't understand the Catholics, so don't ask.

More Shit SB Says

Everything is funny until it happens to you.

A Blast from the Past: Scary Jesus

Why are the Catholics always trying to fancy shit up? Jesus didn't wear an elegant silver crown, you bunch of dumb fucks. It was a crown of natural thorns! Get that shit straight. What's wrong with realism you fuckers?

And also, I suppose the three hearts on the crown symbolize the Holy Trinity. Whatever. Nobody understands that Holy Ghost fucker.

An Enlightening Conversation

I never have understood why tall guys go for the short girls.

Because you can hold them up against the wall and nail them.

The Resolution on this Bitch Sucks, but I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

Bubba is still my favorite President. Fucker was still a hotness even with that Grizzly Adams shit going on.

Fashion Tips for Women from a Guy Who Knows Dick About Fashion.

This shit made me laugh.

Shit SB Says in a Comment to Ms. Moon

I detest the Facebook. I've got enough damn friends. I don't need more. I can't keep up with the ones I see face-to-face. Fuck that shit.

It's hell being popular.

Today Is My Idol, Ms. Moon's, Birthday

All you bitches head over to her blog and wish her a Happy fucking Birthday. Don't disappoint me.

Link for you lazy motherfuckers:

Solid Rock Pinheads for Jesus

This article below is from The Dayton Daily News. It is in regards to the builders/owners of Touchdown Jesus that burned along I-75 recently. Fuckers are pinheads. See particularly paragraphs in bold. I wish they would turn the church building into a hay barn. Good idea!

By Mary McCarty and Tom Beyerlein

Staff Writers
Updated 8:50 AM Monday, July 26, 2010

MONROE — The 62-foot King of Kings statue no longer stretches out its giant arms to motorists on Interstate 75, but a pastor of the Solid Rock Church says the June 14 fire was good PR for what the church is about: Christ.

“His name was mentioned more in the 24 hours after that fire than probably in 2,000 years,” said Lawrence Bishop, 68, who, along with his wife, Darlene, 65, founded the church in 1978.

The fire also shone a spotlight on the Bishops, who built Solid Rock from a dozen congregants in a tin-roofed building with folding chairs into one of the region’s largest churches, with a satellite church east of Cincinnati, a home for troubled women, 13 churches in the Philippines and an orphanage in Brazil. Clearly, the statue outside the church wasn’t the only thing about Solid Rock that’s larger than life.

Internet rumors have it that Lawrence, a rancher, got rich by smuggling bags of cocaine inside the body cavities of his horses. That the colossal King of Kings statue of Jesus that burned June 14 was a stash for drugs. That the church basement contains a stockpile of armaments.

In an interview with the Dayton Daily News, the Bishops didn’t shy away from confronting the oft-repeated rumors.

“I tell people if I’m a drug dealer I’m very successful because I’ve lived on a hill for 22 years and I’ve never been arrested,” Lawrence said.

Added Darlene: “Lawrence never smoked a cigarette or had a drink of alcohol. He wouldn’t know a drug if it was right in his face.”

The rumors, ongoing sources of speculation on Internet message boards, demonstrate the passions that the Bishops stir in people. They are the objects of anger and scorn, adoration and devotion.

Reason for the rumors

Lawrence, 68, said he and his wife are controversial because of their strong stands against abortion and gay rights.

“We are not against (gays), but we are against lifestyles that go against the word of God,” he said. “If we don’t believe what he believes, we might as well turn that (church) building into a hay barn.”

Plenty of believers subscribe to the Bishops’ conservative, racially inclusive brand of Christianity. Solid Rock has some 3,500 members on the rolls, many of whom attend at least one of three weekly services in a sanctuary built for 2,100. While most area churches tend to draw either blacks or whites, Solid Rock claims a 50-50 racial mix. Services blend African-American gospel, country music, evangelical fervor and high-tech production values.

Nationally known R&B and gospel singer Shirley Murdock of Dayton said she was attracted to Solid Rock from her first visit, about 15 years ago. She became close friends with the Bishops, “my spiritual parents,” and starred with Darlene and two other women in a Christian cable TV program called “Sisters” from 2005-2009.

“It’s like what I imagine heaven must be,” Murdock said of Solid Rock. “Nobody cares what color you are, what clothes you wear, what’s your social status. (The Bishops) just really love God. People with great big hearts — that’s what I see when I see the Bishops.”

The couple met in a Hamilton church 50 years ago, when Lawrence was 17 and Darlene was 15. Two years later, Darlene dropped out of high school and married him.

Lawrence, who hails from tiny Zag, Ky., already was dealing in horses. Darlene was from a strict Pentecostal upbringing that forbade women from cutting their hair and using makeup.

Darlene said as newlyweds they lived in a one-room apartment without any plumbing and she worked in a music store for $14 a week while Lawrence got his business going. Over the years, the couple had four children.

By the mid-1970s, Lawrence’s business as a horse breeder and auctioneer was booming, but he said he was drifting away from God and his family. “I’d done well, but I wasn’t really happy.” One day, he said, he opened a Bible at random to Matthew 6:33: “(S)eek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” The incident rekindled his faith and, in 1978, the Bishops founded the Middletown Evangelistic Center, the forerunner to Solid Rock.

About the same time, Darlene said, there were news reports that authorities arrested some Texas ranchers on charges they were running drugs from Mexico. She said the rumors about drug involvement by the Bishops started then. A Butler County prosecutor’s spokeswoman said the Bishops have never been charged with any crime, and the county’s chief humane officer, Julie Holmes, said she has investigated several animal-cruelty complaints against the couple’s LB Ranch and found only healthy horses.

Church on the move

Outgrowing its Middletown building, Solid Rock in 1992 relocated to its sprawling campus off Interstate 75 in Monroe, right next to the Traders World flea market. The church features Spanish-style architecture similar to that of the LB Ranch across the highway.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Even MORE Shit SB Says

I think I need a shower. I smell like a migrant worker's ass.

More Shit SB Says

Motherfucker is so dumb, he needs a recipe to make s'mores.

I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

I remember one time ex-Mr. SB and I went camping (we liked each other then) , and we went to sleep for the night, and the next fucking morning, a little fat ass (just like the one in the photo above), left all the fruits and vegetables and shit, but cleaned us out of Twinkies and Cheese Doodles.

Why couldn't the little sonofabitch have eaten the carrots, my fat ass complained? Jesus. Fucker ate all the good stuff! Motherfucker ate all my damn Twinkies!

The trip went to shit after that. You can't have a good time camping without toasted Twinkies. Fuck marshmallows and s'mores and shit. That shit's for amateurs.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Pal Steph

Jesus. That's all I have to say. Actually, that's all I have to say about most things. That's the sum total of my wisdom. You're welcome.

Shit the Viking Says

[To a crawdad in a stream] No, I don't want you. You're missing a claw. If I'm going to catch a crawdad, I want it to be a symmetrical one.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Uhhhhhhmmmm, Okay

I am under constant (constant means constant) 24/7 surveillance every single place I go by a C4ISR system with artificial intelligence connected to a directed energy weapons platform. I am only one of many that is now being attacked by this monster. This system, which will be explained in more detail in my book, is being used to electronically torture many individuals.

I am also severely gang stalked out in public by the civilian defense network. The battleswarms which the network conducts are computer generated. This defense network, which has existed in some form since at least 1917, is entirely merged into our society, just as it was in East Germany & Communist Russia.

Each internal & external environment that I have been in for any length of time is psychologically prepared by the military to convey PsyOp messages of violence. It is also packed with objects to physically block me & to create a claustrophobic effect. In future updates I’ll explain how they have attempted to control my environment as much as possible.

Message to Friends & Family

I know you are handled by the security forces every single time I’m around you & that you are forced to attack me. I understand that you are being directed by them in real-time with advanced surveillance technology that includes the transmission of instructions directly into your auditory pathways. I realize that you will deny this. I also know, that, despite your honest intentions of welcoming me, you are seriously, even painfully, inconvenienced.

They have blocked me from finding employment. By placing an electronic wall around all of my communications they have prevented me from seizing any realistic opportunities. Quite arrogantly, they often let me know they are doing so.

Although the attacks occurred at the last farm I was at for several years, I was able to work & continue my studies. That has ended. At farm I’m currently at & will be leaving soon, they have created a situation where they forced these people to act in certain ways & to request things that they knew I would not go along, & which would result in my resignation.

Because I am currently not aware of any other practical option, & all other opportunities have been blocked, I will be living in the streets for now. Living with relatives for an extended length of time is not an option because I know what they must go through. Boston is the best place because of the developed transportation system, libraries, & because I’ll be closer to family & friends.

I realize this seems absurd. But there is no normal solution for this because it is not a normal issue. The reality of the situation is that the people who run our society are psychopaths & they are attacking me. They have not allowed me any viable opportunities in the system that they run. This is happening & I am not the only one.

Personally, I can't wait for this guy's book.

[Thanks, Jenn!]

Daily Koan: What Is the Sound of Two Giraffes Fucking?

I don't know, but I'll bet that shit isn't pleasant. And also, you just know this poor kid will never live this down. Her parents will ask her, at least several times a year, FOR THE REST OF HER FUCKING LIFE: Do you remember the time we were at the safari park on vacation and went to take a photo of you and those two giraffes were going at it in the backround?

[I know this because the Moms and Daddums STILL always ask me: Do you remember the time we went to see Mount Rushmore and dad shut your ear in the electric window of the Cadillac?

Christ, yes, I remember. It hurt like a damn motherfucker. True story.]

Comment to the Lovely Mrs. Miss A. About the Damn Candle Parties Being a Particularly Midwestern Phenomena

Mrs. Miss A.,

Since you're about the only motherfucker that didn't ask what a damn candle party is, and you're in Michigan, I do assume that it is more of a Midwestern phenomena. Lucky us!

I am ready for the stripper pole fad to get to us.



To Answer the Damn Question: What Is a Candle Party?

It's a party where there are eats and drinks and where a motherfucker can buy over-priced enchanting fetching motherfucking candles and gaudy glittery candle holders and whatnot. Evidently from the barrage of stupid questions asking what a damn candle party is, they mostly take place in the Midwest.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Shit SB Says at a Candle Party

That's some enchanting motherfucking shit right there.

I Think Giorgio Armani Looks Pretty Damn Good for 76

Fuck you nasty, nasty British tabloid press, who somehow compared the 76 year old to Daniel Craig in a Speedo. Yeah, that was an intelligent and fair comparison, assholes.

A Comment from My Sweet Friend Kathleen

This shit made me laugh.

My mother prays for parking spaces at the shopping center. If she finds one nearby she gives a fervent "Thank you Jesus!". If she finds one far away, she says, "Thank you, Lord, you knew I needed to walk today."

You can check out Kathleen's lovely blog here, motherfuckers:

Just click on that shit, you bunch of lazy assholes.

More Olan Mills Awkward Posed Fuckery

The Moms used to dress my brother Steve and I up and tape bows in my goddamn fine hair and shit and trot our tike asses off to Olan Mills at least twice a year to document our sibling awkwardness. I used to hate that shit. To this day, I do not like having my goddamn picture taken. Like certain native tribes, I believe that a bitch trying to take a picture is trying to STEAL YOUR SOUL. Also, admittedly, I photograph like ass.

So does this guy.

This Post Amused the Shit Out of Me

Written by my good friend, the inimitable Mrs. Miss A.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Dear Friend Jeannie

I am looking at a house on Saturday. One of the reasons I don't like where I'm at, is that I am in half a double with houses very close (way TOO CLOSE) on either side. Every time I go out to walk to the damn mailbox or pick up dog poop, some sonofabitch wants to wave (then I have to smile, when I'd really like to bare my teeth), say hello, or EVEN WORSE, converse. Fuck that shit.

Shit SB Says in an E-mail to Ms. Moon

I have a great aunt who thanks Jesus when she locates her missing eye glasses. I make fun of her and say something like: “While Jesus was so busy searching for your glasses, a child in the cancer ward probably just died.” I know, I’m awful. Whatever.

An E-mail Message from President Obama

Our special-interest opponents and their Republican allies have now set their sights on the elections in November as their best chance to overturn the historic progress we've made together.

[For some reason, my dumb ass read Republican allies as Republican aliens. That shit made me laugh.]

From a Morning E-mail to My Idol Ms. Moon

I try and just look at prayer as “keeping a good thought.” The energy (intention) behind the bullshit is good.

Friday, July 16, 2010

I Don't Have Dick to Say Today

If that changes, I'll be back, if not, then have a fucking rip-roaring weekend all. Inspiration is a flighty bitch, and I don't know whether that ho will make an appearance or not today. We shall see, motherfuckers. We shall see.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

You Might Be Sick, But You're Not Nauseous

This is in memory of DFW because it was one of his pet peeves.

[I sense you fuckers' eyes glazing over as soon as you read language and grammar. Read it anyway. You can't go around like stupid ignorant fucks all your lives. Well, you can, but it won't be my damn fault.]

SB LOVES the Google!

Way to go Google! Google will now be paying domestic partnership benefits for gay employees. Thank you Google for being fair and, as usual, leading the way.

I wouldn't use any other search engine.

Link to story:

I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

From My Dear Friend Ruth's Wonderful Blog

I really needed to see this after the oil spill pictures (post below). Obviously it's Manic-Depressive Blog Wednesday here at Sarcastic Bastard. Feel bad. No, feel good. Be happy. Be sad.

[I love you Ruth!]

We Are All Responsible for This

Sickening. I feel ill.

David Foster Wallace on American Psycho

"You’re just displaying the sort of cynicism that lets readers be manipulated by bad writing. I think it’s a kind of black cynicism about today’s world that Ellis and certain others depend on for their readership. Look, if the contemporary condition is hopelessly shitty, insipid, materialistic, emotionally retarded, sadomasochistic, and stupid, then I (or any writer) can get away with slapping together stories with characters who are stupid, vapid, emotionally retarded, which is easy, because these sorts of characters require no development. With descriptions that are simply lists of brand-name consumer products. Where stupid people say insipid stuff to each other. If what’s always distinguished bad writing—flat characters, a narrative world that’s cliched and not recognizably human, etc.—is also a description of today’s world, then bad writing becomes an ingenious mimesis of a bad world. If readers simply believe the world is stupid and shallow and mean, then Ellis can write a mean shallow stupid novel that becomes a mordant deadpan commentary on the badness of everything. Look man, we’d probably most of us agree that these are dark times, and stupid ones, but do we need fiction that does nothing but dramatize how dark and stupid everything is? In dark times, the definition of good art would seem to be art that locates and applies CPR to those elements of what’s human and magical that still live and glow despite the times’ darkness. Really good fiction could have as dark a worldview as it wished, but it’d find a way both to depict this world and to illuminate the possibilities for being alive and human in it. You can defend "Psycho" as being a sort of performative digest of late-eighties social problems, but it’s no more than that."

Bret Easton Ellis Is an Asshole

Jealous much, Bret?

[From a question answered by Bret Easton Ellis during his appearance at the Southbank Centre.]

Question: David Foster Wallace – as an American writer, what is your opinion now that he has died?

Answer: Is it too soon? It’s too soon right? Well I don’t rate him. The journalism is pedestrian, the stories scattered and full of that Mid-Western faux-sentimentality and Infinite Jest is unreadable. His life story and his battle with depression however is really quite touching. . . .

[To Mr. Easton Ellis: Infinite Jest is unreadable only if you are intellectually lazy and/or unimaginative, which pretty much describes the typical reader of your work. I guess I'm sentimental enough to believe that you ought not to take cheap fucking shots at the dead. Your response made you sound like a jealous condescending prick.


A Sentimental Midwestern Blogger

p.s. As a person who battles depression, I can assure you it is anything but touching.]

On an Appreciation of Birds (NOT)

From a cheery morning comment on my sister-in-law's blog, where she was discussing the joy of awakening to (cocksucking) morning birdsong.

I'd get a gun. Laugh. I hate birds. All they do is carry lice and get their nasty shit all over everything.


Your Sunny Sister-in-Law

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Replica Looks Like Shit

You can even get your OFFICIAL Robert the Doll replica (if you're a blind dumb ass).

BUT BE WARNED: It looks like shit. Fuckers must think tourists are suckers. And NEWFLASH: They ARE!

Compare this rip-off piece of low-rent booty to the actual Robert the Doll in the post below. Virtually identical!

Here's Some Creepy-Ass Haunted Doll Shit for You

Fucker looks pretty benign, so I don't know whether it's true or not. You can even e-mail Robert the Doll, but SB is not going there. I come from an old supersitious southern family. We believe in bad juju, and we do not go looking for trouble.

"Robert is 105 years old and began his life as a doll belonging to young Gene Otto, who blamed Robert for every ”misdeed, treachery and mischief.”"

My thought is that maybe Gene Otto was just mental as shit.

Link to Robert the Doll's story of haunted magical mysterial fuckery.

This Kills Me

C'mon Will, why hide it? Afraid you'll lose your big box office/America's Sweetheart status? Grow some balls and own up.

Hypocrisy pisses me off.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Good Friend Sweden

Man, I hate crocs. I can't tell you. FUGLY. They are the sweat pants of footwear.

Check out Swedz's cool-ass blog of TOTAL HONESTY:

[And don't be asking her stupid questions like: Are you really Swedish? Don't embarrass my ass, motherfuckers!]

BLOGGER Fix the Comments Issues Already GODDAMN

It's important that my motherfucking followers feel that their comments are not disappearing into the cocksucking ether.

[That said, I realize you do provide a FREE service to me, but that said, I am STILL ANNOYED. FIX THE SHIT ALREADY.]

Shit SB Says to Ms. Moon (My Idol)

Ms. Moon,
Your comment made my fat ass smile. Okay, I SMILED--my fat ass DIDN'T.

You are a blessing unto my life.

[Unto made it sound more stately and biblical and shit.]

p.s. To my millions of readers (if you want it, you HAVE to put it out there in the cocksucking Universe): And I don't care whether you fuckers are getting tired of my calling Ms. Moon my idol. She is, and it's my goddamn blog, and I can do whatever the fuck I want, so fuck you. If you don't like it, go read that fucking BORE Pioneer Woman. You will NOT be missed.

I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

Yes, I stole this off another blog. I do that regularly. SB has to keep you bitches fed. Fuck you.

A Bitch Is Fried and Zombified

SB is fried and zombified this morning. It's like swimming through milk. And no, I am not on LSD, motherfuckers. A bitch is working today!

Just some mornings are harder than others. Ms. Moon (my idol) will get this shit.

On the good news front, my wrist ain't broke from yesterday's tragic fall. It's not even very badly bruised (so far). I was even able to hold the blow dryer and style my hair this morning. [My good friend, Ruth, understands THE VAST IMPORTANCE of this! We both have curly hair.] One must tame that unruly shit DOWN!

Not being able to style my hair would have been the MOST SIGNIFICANT horror that came out of my fall. Tragedy diverted! I am feeling woozy but grateful this morning.

How are all you bitches doing? Check in, please. [If I get no comments, this will be somewhat embarrassing. Let's face it, at my age, nothing is ALL THAT embarassing. A bitch bounces back quickly, or you don't make it this far. It's eat or be eaten, motherfuckers! If I teach your Special Ed asses nothing else, let it be that.]

Monday, July 12, 2010

Shit SB Says in Comments

I should write romance novels. Actually, I am the LEAST romantic person alive. Sex is a damn biological urge like taking a dump. What can you do? A bitch has got to procreate. That shit is MANDATORY.

My Fat Ass Tell Down the Stairs at Lunch

I nearly took the Diarrhetic Wunderkind out. I fell on her damn paw and knocked over a chair. The old bitch is fine (both of us!). So don't worry all you bleeding-heart PETA fucks. I just laid there and laughed hysterically. My left wrists hurts, but I can still hold a beer, so I'll make it.

It was so fucking funny. 5 foot 10 inches and 180 lbs. of fat tumbling down the steps.

Why is it so funny when a bitch falls? Enquiring minds want to know, motherfucker!

I Remember Mama and She Was a Whorish X-mas Slut

Can you imagine the girlfriends junior is going to bring home? I am being overwhelmed by SHADES OF GROSS. Shit is inappropriate.

Shitty News to Start the Week

Let me state unequivocally that SB is TEAM COLTON. I guess he was apprehended over the weekend. Fuck me, man. What a cocksucking bitch.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Sharing My Weekend Joy

My new vibrator arrived today. Happy weekend to me!

Shit SB Says While Watching a Stupid Motherfucker Slide into a Stop Sign

Dude, the Universe does not care that your dumb ass is in a hurry. Gravity is one unforgiving bitch.

Shit SB Says in an E-mail to Her Idol, Ms. Moon

Puppini has butt worms. I have to go pick up a pill at the vets at lunch and jack it down the little bitch's throat. She is a hell cat. This should be fun!

[SB will likely return to work with semi-coagulated blood dripping down my arm. None of my co-workers would blink twice.]

Syd Asked, So SB Answers

I have missed you. What have you been up to?

Dear Syd,
I have not been inspired, pure and simple. I refuse to publish half-assed semi-funny shit just to publish. If I lose a few motherfuckers in the interim, then I could give a shit. I don't need any half-assed fair-weather motherfuckers following my blog.

I appreciate you asking what I have been doing. I hope this sufficiently answers the question.



I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

Actually, it's all shades of gross, but it made me laugh. I don't know who the fuck it is, so don't ask. It's some old fucker doing his morning constitutional or some shit.

Perhaps we should all take a few moments out of our day to do this pose. Then, we too, can live to be an 80 year old fucker like Ankle Grab Guy here. You can LEARN good helpful shit from the elderly if you are not too stuck up and egotistical (I'm talking to you young bastards who read my crap. If you'd put the damn iPod down for a minute and do this pose, it could conceivably make you live longer. I don't know why I waste my damn time, you youngsters are a bunch of dumb worthless cunts. I weep for the future.).

An E-mail to Cousin Sheila

I hope you are not working too hard. I am thinking of you, and I will be jealous if you get to work in a psych ward. I always wanted to either be confined to one or to work with the crazies. I want to be prepared for my future.

I love you more than the Sun.


A Conversation (Sort Of)

I mean, do you think I'm paranoid? I keep thinking the people in the car ahead of me are talking about me.


Friday, July 2, 2010

Shit SB Says

I don't celebrate the 4th of July. I think we were better off under the British. Also, there are too many damn rednecks with fireworks. Every sonofabitch with five dollars to spare can buy some fireworks. I don't like loud noises. Neither does the damn dog. She cowers and pisses all over.