Sin

Walk down the right back alley in Sin Battery, and you can find anything. The losers trying to pretend to be someone. We know they’re idiots. This ain't no battery. These are the bad days. The all-or-nothing days. They're back. I look at the yellow guy named ______y, he’s so certifiable he doesn’t know it. He wears the costume. That there is one damn fine coat you're wearin', I think to myself.

Enter the majors. The very picture of obtuse. Void of leadership and spinal fluid. Every shot I send their way is wasted. An insult is only effective when the recipient is intelligent enough to understand it. I love reserve majors. No matter what you do to them, you don't feel bad. The one is a Mid-Life Crisis poster child. Slowly fading from lack of intellect, stamina and testicles. He’s a forgotten relic and when his career goes go dead, the hell we'll send him to will seem like heaven after what we've done to him. The other one is so dense he’s dangerous. In the field he’s armed and ineffective. We take out his weapons, both of them, but they’re hard to find without a microscope.

The adjutant:

Adjt: I had to fight some reserve officers.
Sarge: Oh, that's lovely. You didn't happen to kill any of them, did you?
Adjt: Nah, I don't think so, but they know they’ve been in a fight, that's for sure.

He’s frustrated from all the stupidity. Who can blame him. That's the thing with Adjutants, sometimes all they gotta do is let it out and a few buckets later there's no way you'd know.

BC Darwin’s waiting room is as stupid as one person can get without being euthanized. He’s awkward and slow, and his awkwardness just makes us all sweat. He asks the adjutant one of his typical stupid questions. The adjt responds. He doesn't quite chop his head off. He makes a Pez dispenser out of him. Little Adjt, you're an angel, you're a saint, you're Mother Teresa, you're Elvis. BC DWR is still desperate for someone to help him be a leader. Yeah and while I’m at it, I’ll go and punch god out.

The scientist is cool, he smells like captains ought to smell.

Walk down the right back alley in Sin Battery, and you can find anything. But what if I'm wrong? I've got a condition. I get confused sometimes. What if I've imagined all this? What if I've finally turned into what they've always said I would turn into? A maniac. A psycho sarge. Fuck it. Hey! There is no settling down! This is blood for blood and by the gallons. This is the old days, the bad days, the all-or-nothing days. They're back!

The light loafered major makes one more plea to gouge this place for another nickel. The cheap fuck. I take out his weapons. Both of them.

I don't know about you, but I'm havin' a ball.

Just a flesh wound 

Clive Sassoon 

What Else Could I Be? All Apologies

The epidemic of apologies that is sweeping the planet has turned into an Olympic event. Japan just apologized to the Americans for WWII. Leaders of a rebel group in Ivory Coast apologized for firing on French troops near Duekoke. The Irish Republican Army apologizes for civilian deaths over its thirty year struggle to unite Northern Ireland with the Republic of Ireland. Swiss president Kaspar Villiger apologized for Switzerland’s refusal to accept refugees during WWII.

Pope John Paul the dead apologized to Greece for the Roman Catholic Church’s crimes against the Orthodox, He also apologized for the annihilation of Constantinople (currently called Istanbul , Turkey ) by Christian Crusaders during 4 days of madness, mayhem and murder in April of the year 1204 A.D. Although I’m not entirely certain what the statutes of limitations are on the “Gee, we fucked up” stance is. He also apologized for the Spanish inquisition, and to the Czech Republic for the Church’s role in stake burnings and the religious wars that followed the Protestant Reformation, the Roman Catholic church’s involvement with the African slave trade. He apologized to the victims of sexual molestation brought on by his platoon on nonce priests and bishops every time he left the Vatican gates. My hard drive isn’t big enough to hold the entire litany of things the Roman Catholic church is sorry for. Air Canada just can’t apologize enough these days. On a personal note, I’d like to apologize to Alex for faking that orgasm on August 14th 1996, , anyway, this is just a preamble to forward you this hour has 22 minutes in it Canadian Apologies to the United States of America:

Canada Apologize to the Americans

On behalf of Canadians everywhere I'd like to offer an apology to the United States of America. We haven't been getting along very well recently and for that, I am truly sorry.

I'm sorry we called George Bush a moron.
He is a moron but, it wasn't nice of us to point it out. If it's any consolation, the fact that he's a moron shouldn't reflect poorly on the people of America. After all it's not like you actually elected him.

I'm sorry about our softwood lumber. Just because we have more trees than you doesn't give us the right to sell you lumber that's cheaper and better than your own.

I'm sorry we beat you in Olympic hockey. In our defense I guess our excuse would be that our team was much, much, much, much better than yours.

I'm sorry we burnt down your white house during the war of 1812. I notice you've　rebuilt it! It's Very Nice.

I'm sorry about your beer. I know we had nothing to do with your beer but, we Feel your Pain.

I'm sorry about our waffling on Iraq. I mean, when you're going up against a crazed dictator, you wanna have your friends by your side. I realize it took more than two years before you guys pitched in against Hitler, but that was different. Everyone knew he had weapons.

And finally on behalf of all Canadians, I'm sorry that we're constantly apologizing for things in a passive-aggressive way which is really a thinly veiled criticism. I sincerely hope that you're not upset over this. We've seen what you do to countries you get upset with.

Thank you.

Rick Mercer

Freudz Couch, take a seat

Apparently, Hong Kong just finished a ground breaking study where they used 148 Chinese men to see how their penises measured up to the rest of the world. The outcome of this study showed that Chinese men are no less endowed than anyone else in the western world. The person who declared this result answer’s to the name of Chan Lung-wai, director of the Urology Centre at a university in Hong Kong. I believe it is in Chan’s best interest to report to the world that his penis is just as big as anyone else’s.

The study illustrates the following measurements of the international un-erect penis in inches, do not be alarmed on these intimidating results as these are merely statistical and if you fall a little short you probably have a good singing voice or at the very least you have a really really swell personality: (clears throat)

Germans: 3.4
Turks: 3.07
Filipinos : 2.89
Italians : 3.54
Americans: 3.46

The Chinese measured in at 3.33, upstaging the Filipinos by .44 of an inch (my condolences to Filipino women everywhere).
The article went on to say that erect penises were not measured in the study. As a woman I probably have no entitlement to comment on this study because I don’t own a penis, but the question begs to be asked: Who the fuck cares about a flaccid penis? The only time a penis is remotely interesting or entertaining is when it’s erect, and the very reason for the study was to place the Chinese mind at ease in telling them they could measure up as pleasure giving stud muffins in the same league as the rest of the world, so does it really matter how big a soft penis? I don’t get the joke Chan.

I’ve heard men commenting on the size of their penis before but to be completely honest, I’ve never heard one say “Hey babe, I got 3.4 inches of pleasure just waiting for you”. Never! Not once. I’d probably have to respond with “Oh my god, it’s so cute” or something along those flattering lines.

I have to be perfectly honest in saying I’m not any closer to knowing if the Chinese penis is indeed the same size as penises of other ethnic origins as before the study disclosed it's findings. Why they didn’t measure them when they were hard is anyone’s guess. I’d have volunteered for the job if it came with dental benefits but I had no idea where to send my resume.

Internet men, on the other hand, all seem to have at least 9 inches (I’m assuming that’s erect). I have come to the conclusion that IBM must have a policy to not let computers into the hands of men who have anything weighing in any less. I even looked near the Intel Inside sticker for a label stating “Your penis must be at least this big to operate this system” but I have a sissy girl computer.

I honestly believe the laws of physics are a bit skewed when correlating limp and erect penises or perhaps Chinese men just have less blood. The math simply doesn’t work no matter what the well hung Chan tells himself at night to make him sleep better.

Mel 19:25
 

Ouch 

The Gospel According to Mel 

Passion of the Christers

I read an advertisement yesterday, selling candles that smell like Jesus for the rock bottom price of $18 US or $256 Canadian. Thanks to Bob and Karen Tosterud of Bumfuck, Whoknowswhere a person can smell Jesus in their home for up to 48 hours. Your really gotta give these two shysters credit. I applaud anyone who can fuck over his fellow cult members with such a lucrative upshot.
I don’t claim to be all knowing, but I can be fairly confident in saying that the odor of some bronze aged middle easterner is not going to smell exactly like Burberry (but that’s just me)
I posted on Rotten Tomatoes/Passion of the Christ Forum a link to the Jesus Dress Up Doll and the forum turned into Isreal and fucking Palistine with all the commiserating back and forth, so I have finally drawn to the conclusion that only fundies are allowed to profit from God and fuck everyone one else. I find this so unnerving. I believe anyone should be able to sell Jesus on the public market and make a decent living at it.
Fundamentalists were picketing outside Urban Outfiters where the Jesus Dress Up Fridge magnets were sold for weeks, finally forcing the store to pull them from their shelves. I wish I had as much time on my hands as a fundie. These people picket for a living, check out the next the Right to Life demonstration and point out one person who is in danger of even having sex let alone becoming pregnant.
I find the concept of Jesus Scented Candles completely repugnant and an insult to anyone’s intelligence (but understanding the targeted clientele I can see how they’re such a hit) so I won’t own one. Fundies are insulted by the Jesus Dress Up Fridge Magnets, so no one can own one. The thing is, I never have fundies in my kitchen, so why should it bother them what’s on my fridge. What is it about these idiots that they find it impossible to change a channel, not look at porn or not buy a freakin fridge magnet, that they impede on everyone else’s right to do so.
So I am appealing to all my Atheist friends to make up picket signs and band together to get these Jesus candles off the shelves, get porn on prime time TV and make Howard Stern Pope (wait, he’s jewish, fuck it, it’s time we had a Jewish pope). We’ll wear our best sweat pants and put our hair up in rollers just like the fundies, and those with the option can even leave out their dental plates. I'll bring the Jello salad.
Please give generously to www.freudzixnayjesuscandle.com or
www.freudzsavethejesusmagnets.com and let your money make a difference for our children and our children’s children.

I noticed 

Woof

So I’m looking for a dog. It’s been so long since I’ve had something to neglect. I’ve consulted the books as to what breed I should have for my particular situation (being that of no time for a dog)
The thing is, I’ve always wanted an English Bulldog. Ever since a close friend of mine got one at a rescue mission I’ve wanted one. This thing stands about 15 inches high and weighs no less than a hundred pounds. When it looks at you it seems to want to eat you for breakfast. Watching it go up the stairs is more entertaining than the season finale of the Soprano’s and when the bitch next door is in heat, watching it go up the stairs with an erection just double the fun.
So now I want one. I’ve even reconciled myself to putting up with the snot issue, and farting issue and the cherry eye thing and the impending sinus surgery which will no doubt cost a pharaoh’s ransom. And no matter what gender this is, I’m going to call it fifi or fluffy, because a bulldog is just begging to have a sissy name.
I’ve called three places so far and emailed two breeders. One woman called me back this morning telling me she will soon have puppies available and that she would let me know as soon as possible when I could come and see them to have a pick of the litter. I am number 2 in the picking pecking order, yippie ki yay.
About an hour after I spoke to her, I phoned her back as I had forgotten to ask her about the price. She then proceeded to quote me $3,000 (three thousand) (3K) (3 grand) (3 big ones). For a damn dog that looks like it got hit by a truck. I was stunned. I thought I misunderstood her at first. Threefuckingthousand. For one dog, Not one dog a a plasma TV, just one freakin dog.
I really don’t consider myself a cheap person, I wouldn’t even say I’m frugal, I pay 50 bucks for a tube of lipstick for Christ’s sake and buy my kid Mobius and North Face coats for winter. Cheap would never be a word used by anyone to describe me. But I can’t seem to get my mind around paying $3,000 for a stupid dog, especially when it’s going to wipe it’s snot all over my furniture and drop fart bombs with the intensity of Napalm.
Fuck the dog, I’m buying gold fish. No shit, no walking, no creature smearing it’s mucus on your good skirt, just a pet that will live a week then die with grace and dignity, disposable pets at $1.49 each. I now know that gold fish don’t do stunts or swim in creative ways so I’m prepared unlike last time I tried to show everyone what clever goldfish I had. No plasma TV.

Curse of the Starving Class

So I was finally in a Costco the other day. After hearing everyone go on and on about it I finally thought it was time to see all I have been missing all these years

I had to be accompanied with someone with a Costco passport of course because the average Joe can not be permitted inside such a luxurious mercantile. When we passed by the pimply faced kid at the entrance and he waved us through my heart was pounding with excitement with the sheer anticipation of grandeur.

The entire warehouse look was so impressive, including the piles of TVs all wrapped in saran wrap piled skid on top of skid that sort of resembled K2 but not to be outdone by the Mount Everest sized pile of Jeans and leather coats. People gathered around the piles and rooting for their sizes (hangers of courses being so gauche).

I have no idea what I was thinking by buying a box of 30 tampons when at Costco I could have been buying a box of 6,000 and save at least 10 cents per box. And why buy one loaf of fresh bread at a time when you can buy 88 loaves and freeze them for months, saving an entire nickel per loaf. I passed a woman who had a trolley (yes trolley)piled with roughly 25,000 roles of toilet paper. It’s such a brilliant idea this buying a lifetime supply of product so you never have to shop again. Where these idiots are going to keep all this shit is any body's guess but I imagine they can buy the resin Costco shed for $870 to store it all.

The entire place is peppered with girls in paper chef hats peddling samples of fine cuisine with shelf lives of 90 years and flocks of people around actually waiting for a tablespoon of something. I can’t imagine what these people do for a living that their time is so worthless to them to endure all this. The line up at the registers was at least 20 people long. I looked at my cart and couldn’t see the significance of actually waiting in a line for 2 hours long to purchase the crap that was in there. So I just left my 120 tubes of toothpaste family pack of 50,000 ribbed Durex condoms between customer number 23 and 25 and walked out of the store.

Of course I had to wait at the exit for the Gestapo to check to see that I wasn’t trying to pull a fast one as he was checking everyone. I started sweating at the possible cavity search that I thought they may conduct if you have no obvious purchase but I got out unscathed.

Kudos to the guy that came up with this marketing strategy where he knew that the general population was enough of a mental midget to buy into this shit, then have the balls to actually charge an annual fee for the privilege of shopping there. How the public at large have been swindled into a scam of paying a membership fee to be bequeathed the honour of giving a company their money scares the shit out of me, considering when you know that these same people are allowed to vote and drive cars. My hat’s off to this master marketer and his Costco Regime, as no doubt he could sell sand to Arabs.