Saturday, August 29, 2009

A degenerate pornographic misanthropic dissecting disseminating morally-bankrupt monologue

Achtung: Reading any of the text in this tirade may result in permanent brain damage. If that happens, and your family asks you if I'm liable, blink twice, because I just posted a disclaimer, but if you're bothered by things you read on the 'net, then I can only advise that you unplug your computer this instant, and also your television and possibly your microwave.

Now for the funk.

Feel it.

Society is full of drones and slaves to the man and blah blah blah. But that's not why I'm mad. That's not why I'm dictating this prolific ground-breaking magnum opus literature to my Latina typist secretary that will be discussed in-depth on various radio shows with overweight drug-addicted hosts who need to compete with the underweight drug-addicted radio hosts who have become dehydrated after exhausting the Dasani Bottled Water of creativity and have turned to throwing balloons filled with honey at Korean strippers while singing the National Anthem of Canada just for the sheer shock value. You know, that cheap-shot humor that causes middle-aged single mothers to gasp and exclaim "That is wrong! What if my kids heard that?" Well, in short, if her kids heard "that", then they would grow up to be Mafia gangsters in pin-stripe suits, wielding tommy-guns and knocking down banks, then promptly diving into their model-t's to make their get-away, see?

The monotony of life gets under my skin like a... no, I'm not even going to make a run-on sentence analogy. At this point, I think most people would simply commit suicide, but I'm too creative for that shit. Rather, I've been considering constructing an elaborate alien abduction hoax so I can get onto the evening news and sell my books, which I will write later. The books will be 90% ways to get out of paying for meals at restaurants, 5% Nietzschean-style philosophical musings, and 5% recipes for Poison Ninja Muffins to serve to your Shogun warlord enemies during diplomatic tea-parties, but I plan to mention these books in my interviews with Larry King, provided that he hasn't died yet. My hoax will consist primarily of me swearing on the lives of my family that I was abducted by aliens, even though it's clearly a lie, then present photographic evidence by showing a picture of a figure with a white sheet over it's head, and simply remark that "Oh yeah, the aliens are also ghosts."

It would be so simple to run a hoax like that, and you know that spreading disinformation is not only hilarious, but it's good clean fun that the whole family can enjoy, which is why Glenn Beck loves it more than black hookers. Someday, I'll even write a step-by-step guide to deceiving the world around you into believing you had an encounter with aliens, or better yet, Nessy. Just don't get caught, or all the other "abduction victims" will come to your house and brand a scarlet "A" on your forhead for "Asshole". You will then be picked up by a government quarantine squad, thrown in a black van with no windows, and be driven off to the death factories to test Obama's meat grinders designed to turn your Grandma into ground chuck. You do not want this. It is very unpleasant.

Now to be serious for one fucking second.

As part of my desperate cry for relevance in a cruel universe, where neutron stars go around annihilating all your favorite planets, and where whales are harpooned daily for their delicious innards, I just have to say FUCK SEX PORN INCEST STORIES FATHER DAUGHTER BLACK ASIAN ANAL CIGARETTES BONDAGE TIGHT EBONY BUSTY DONKEY and also, that I think that everyone is special in their own way, and that if we all just can just look inside ourselves for the love that is in our hearts, we can all live together in harmony.

Now go kick a baby.

4 comments:

calicolyst said...

Keywords are key.

Chels said...

You forgot TEEN GIRL DOGGY WOOD BUSH FRENCH HORSE BALL MAID TEQUILA.

Tom said...

Wow you're a pretty intense dude.

I'm glad you have a non physical way of channeling your anger and frustration. Although typing is physical and I'm sure thinking is physical in one sense or another... Or is it chemical. Oh gosh, I don't know.

Miss Whorecake said...

I'll buy your book... books. Whatever it is, I'll take. I'm a consumer. I consume. And the contrast of your page is freaking my eyes out.

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