Archive for the ‘stuff i wrote while i lived in virginia’ Category

Goose-Stepping Morons Like Yourself…

April 27, 2006

Anybody who talks to me more than five minutes knows that I love Chicago. So it pains me to say I’m disappointed with the city council for passing a ban on foie gras.

I don’t give a shit about foie gras. I’ve never had foie gras. I will live a happy life if I never taste foie gras. But a person eating foie gras hasn’t done shit to me.

Smokers, on the other hand, have. They stink up my clothes. They give me a bigger headache than the one I bring on myself from booze alone. It’s possible that they increase my cancer risk, but even if they don’t, I reek. And people have to work in bars and restaurants and breathe that stuff day in and day out.

There is no secondhand foie gras.

The ban is troubling for two reasons. The first is that this is a pet issue of the animal lobby. If the basis for this ban is that it’s cruel to animals, then my precious veal can’t be far off. Let’s not forget the fact that what we do with animals is the following: KILL THEM AND EAT THEM. Whatever we do to them before we KILL THEM AND EAT THEM pales in comparison to the fact that we are going to KILL THEM AND EAT THEM. Imagine two scenarios, if you will. In the first, at the age of 23, somebody KILLS YOU AND EATS YOU (you’ll just have to take my word for the fact you got eaten, as you won’t be around to find out). In the second, they brutally force feed you for several years. Then they KILL YOU AND EAT YOU. Which scenario is preferred? If you answered the second, you are wrong, because in that scenario, somebody still KILLED YOU AND ATE YOU. Of course the logical extension of this line of thinking is, if you don’t like being KILLED and EATEN, neither do animals. While this is true, the suffering of a cow must be weighed against a compelling countervailing human interest, namely my interest in consuming a hamburger. Since I am a rational person, I’ll hear arguments from both sides.

ME: I enjoy hamburgers. First of all they’re tasty. Second of all I can put cheese on it, and since cheese is a dairy product, and I am using multiple parts of the cow, I feel sort of like an Indian. Third, hamburgers provide me with beneficial proteins which allow me to grow sideburns that my mom criticizes (“You look like a Russian Jew.”) Finally, they go well with fries.
JUDGE: Thank you for your statement. Rebuttal?
COW: Moooo.
I see. [grabs my hand and thrusts it into the air like I’m Mike Tyson circa 1988. We Are The Champions begins to play. I eat the cow.]

That’s my first reason. Second reason is broader. A quote from the article:

“The laws that we adopt embody the values and mores of our constituents,” said alderman Joe Moore who sponsored the ordinance and fought for months to gain its near-unanimous passage.

This sounds like representative democracy, which is a horrible thing. I hope you knew this. How do we know it’s bad? Well for starters, George W. Bush is always talking positively about democracy. Perhaps that’s not enough for you. Fine. Here’s another group of people embarking on a course of action that embodies the values and mores of the constituent members.
Of course what makes this country better than an angry mob, sometimes, is the constitutional protections given to minorities. (Political minorities. Not ethnic minorities, they get the shaft.) Embodying the values and mores of our constituents is no good if the values and mores are retarded (to say nothing of the constituents). If we outlaw something, it had better be causing some TANGIBLE harm to PEOPLE. You know, the same entities that drew up the Constitution and formed the society that makes the laws. Harm to any non-foie-gras consuming human by the consumption of foie gras by others? None. So this is not an area for the government to take action.

I hope that we can all band together and solve this in time-honored tradition, by bribing our councilmen into repealing this law. I have little doubt PETA used this tactic to get it passed in the first place.


Take 2

March 13, 2006

I’ve decided that my spring break was insufficient, due to the specter of the MPRE hanging over my head the whole time, so I have decided to take a second spring break this week. I will be reuniting with the illustrious Bubbles, who defies categorization or explanation, and whom I can only describe to my readers with the following photograph. Bubbles is on the right.

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On his left is Mark “The Phantom” Wurtzler. I think this photograph was truly a fantastic character study.

We are going to the Outer Banks. I don’t really know what that means, but I’m kind of apprehensive because the Outer Banks are featured prominently on many local SVUs by way of those oval stickers appropriated from European nations. You know. You see a JH, and you know that the driver of the SUV in front of you has been to Jackson Hole and done something gnarly, possibly while drinking Mountain Dew. Around here you get a lot of OBX. O stands for Outer. B stands for Bank. X stands for both the s at the end of Banks and for the notion that the Outer Banks are hip and eXtreme to the maX.

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It occurs to me that there’s another demographic I could target with this particular style of look-at-me-ism. Behold, my next business venture:

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Patent pending, fuckers.

Top 10 Porn Titles of Beatles Songs

December 14, 2005

[Due to increased readership, I am implementing, starting with this post, a warning system, where I make a subjective judgment on the content of my post. Obscene posts will be marked with Mr. Yuck. I have chosen Mr. Yuck as the herald of obsecenity for two reasons; firstly, I have always liked Mr. Yuck, secondly, he fits with the color scheme.]

10. She Came All Over The Bathroom Window
9. We Can Whip It Out
8. You Never Give Me Your Money Shot
7. When I’m Sixty-Nine
6. I Should Have Blown Better
5. Any Hole At All
4. The Long and Winding Chode
3. You Know I Came (Look Up Your Nostril)
2. Magical Fistery Tour
1. The Continual Storming of Bill’s Bungahole

I did not come up with number 10 or number 9 (number 9) . I didn’t just think these up out of the blue. But now that I’ve put the work into it, I thought I would put it out there for the amusement of all, and the revulsion of some.

LATER: For your further enjoyment: Eight Gays a Week, Helter Felcher, Fist and Shout

And as the coup de grace, from their days in the Star Club in Hamburg: Komm Isst Dir Meine Scheisse.

What do you want on your Tombstone?

December 7, 2005

I glanced at my Harris Teeter receipt today. Apparently I am a member of the “Frozen Pizza Club.” I have accumulated 40.73 points in said club. When I hit 50, I will receive $5 off my next purchase, and, one hopes, a letter of commendation from the Red Baron.

I am a little depressed by all this, if ever there was a male counterpart to an apartment full of cats as the symbol of perpetual singlehood, the “Frozen Pizza Club” is assuredly it. I will try to look at the bright side of things, however…perhaps if I gain enough clout within the Frozen Pizza organization, maybe I can manage to get the HT to carry just ONE brand of frozen sausage pizza.

the burger king post

October 21, 2005

I’ve talked about Burger King’s onion ring issue before [ed: this was on my old blog – complaining about getting an onion ring in with my fries] but I almost blew an O-ring of my own today. Got my usual #1 medium cheese no pickle with a Coke, I come home, look at the back of the fry box, and I see this:

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Real nice hustle, assholes. Our problem is so widespead that corporate headquarters knows about it? I know, let’s make an ad campaign out of it. No, fuck fixing the situation, people who order fries definitely want a fucking onion ring in there. Next time I order my Whopper with cheese no pickle, why don’t you put a fucking turnip slice in there, since you know what I want. Whatever happened to having it my way, with NO FUCKING ONION RING.Plus this is setting a bad precedent. For instance.

“Occasionally, you’ll get a child seat that doesn’t play by the rules. A loose cannon. A fucking child seat that accidentally suffocates the life out of your toddler. A Baby-Squisher. But don’t be alarmed. This is a good thing. Though our seats may not Squish Babies every time, if they did, would they really be so special?”

And then to add insult to injury, at the bottom of my fries:

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God damn it.I got so pissed off I had to postpone my frozen sausage pizza hunting trip.

My Trip to Washington

October 17, 2005

Fun times in DC this weekend. I had never been to the Chinatown area before. I thought it was pretty cool. Every business, no matter how unabashedly American (or Mexican) had its name in Chinese characters as well as their usual signage. The only storefront without Chinese characters was Radio Shack, which I found ironic, if you consider the source of 95% of their product lines.

The other thing I love about DC is the license plates, which to my knowledge are the only cranky license plates in the union. Most state license plates have pleasant sayings such as:

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DC however chooses to lament its non-state status:

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So I did a little research, because the situation has deteriorated is a scholarly blog, and I found out that “TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION” was actually only one of many cranky license plates suggested. Here are some of the runners-up:

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Yes, that last plate is right; I am beginning to think that frozen sausage pizza is unavailable throughout the eastern seaboard, and it is getting on my last nerves. And they say we won the cold war.