Saturday, October 18, 2008


This morning, I nearly got into a fistfight with some 14-year-old at McDonald's. What a fucking mess.

I know what you're thinking. I'M the asshole, picking fights with 14-year-olds. But hear me out.

I'd ordered a couple Egg McMuffins and a coffee. Was given my change and receipt. Then, I stepped back a few feet from the counter to wait.

A hashbrown came with my meal. I wasn't excited about that. They're always greasy and taste like rotten ass. I planned on feeding it to the ravenous gulls in the parking lot when I left.

As I stood there, this young kid, black, about six inches shorter and 40 pounds lighter, comes up to me and stands about a foot away, facing me. Staring me DIRECTLY in the eyes.

Now, this is Fall River, Massachusetts. Such behavior is typical for this town and I should be used to it. But I'm not.

Personally, I think the entire city should be razed and the populous turned into Soylent Green. At least then they'd prove themselves useful, by providing fellow humans with sustenance. But that's neither here nor there.

So, I turned, trying to avoid the kid's intense glare.

The insolent fuck followed my every move! He didn't even smirk or smile. Just stared at me!

I was unbelievably uncomfortable. This fucker was being such an absolute prick, I just knew I'd have to blast my forehead into his jaw to teach him a lesson, forcing some poor mentally disabled McD's employee to mop up 14-year-old blood and teeth from the brick red tile floor.

I'd had enough. "What the fuck is your problem, kid?" I asked. I'd already prepared myself for some cocky answer from the kid, and picked out this huge whitehead on his chin for my headbutt target. My plan was to kneel low and drive up, using the strength of my legs to drive my skull through this kid's jaw. The confrontation would be over before it really started.

In a flash, this tremendously obese white woman comes from like ten feet away and bullrushes between us like mama hippo protecting her young. Then, she gets close enough to kiss me and spits all over me, "What the fuck is YOUR problem, DICK?"

"This fucking kid is my problem." I answered. "Staring at me. Breathing that stank breath all over me like a social retard."

She sucked her teeth at me. "He IS retarded, asshole." Then she dragged the kid off to the counter. Their order was ready.

Funny. He didn't look retarded to me.

Friday, October 17, 2008

STILL undecided?

Like most, I watched the debate this week. Heard all about "Joe the Plumber" and how Obama's tax plan was supposedly going to hurt him.

You know, I wish I was a plumber. I hear they make 250 grand a year.

Heard all about Bill Ayers.


And watched McCain's numerous sneers and grimaces. Looked like the Crypt Keeper squirted a few squirrels into his colostomy bag while on that stage.

After it was all over, I stayed up and watched the debate recaps. What interests me most about these things are the interviews with undecided voters.

I just don't get undecided voters. After 2 years of campaigning, thousands of stump speeches, and debate upon debate, you'd think everyone had picked a candidate by now.

Un-fucking-believably, this is just not the case. Some people are still sitting on the picket fence, willfully impaling their assholes on splintered stakes. These intellectuals "want to hear more" from the candidates.

More? Are you shittin' me? After three hour and a half long fucking debates, you need to hear more? You undecided voters are the most fucking moronic people in existence.

Put it this way. You go into a restaurant. Order breakfast. Breakfast comes with toast. White or wheat. That's it. You can't have both. You have to choose between the two.

Or go without.

Actually, that's the best choice you undecideds can make this election. If you haven't figured out the difference between Obama and McCain by now, don't bother choosing.

Come election day, stay at home. Because if I catch some undecided nutjob waffling back and forth, muttering "McCain", and, "Obama", in front of my polling station, I'm going to do what any concerned person should do: Call the police and tell them there's a suspicious schizo muttering nonsense in front of a polling station. Because the last thing we need is a bunch of coin-flipping idiots deciding this election.

We all remember what that earned us in 2000.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Red Pill, Blue Pill, Whatever

A few weeks ago, I offered an open forum for anyone who could explain how one figures out just how much money there is (or should be) in the world. Can we just print as much cash as we want? Or is there a cash ceiling, based upon something concrete?

Unsurprisingly, I didn't receive any feedback.

Which leads me to believe that the whole idea of a "cash-based economy" is something like The Matrix. It's nothing but a false construct, developed by the world's nations in order to keep the general populous toiling for "must-have" 62-inch HD TVs, iPhones and Wiis.

What would happen if people learned they could be happy without the HD, the XBOX 360, and the BMW?

Put it this way: If the common unwashed were to stop buying stupid shit, the whole fucking thing would fall apart. That's something the world's nations can't chance. And that's why they keep printing worthless cash, further bankrupting their own people.

What's that you say, Morpheus? Red Pill or Blue Pill?

It doesn't really matter, now. Does it?